Li-berry Time

Lil brother's shriek of despair sounded like his worst enemy had thrown him upon a sword when I announced we were going to the li-berry. Prior to this announcement, I begged big kid to go with us. "Please, big kid! Lil brother will like it better if you go. He likes everything you like." No-go. Big kid wasn't buying. But he did assure me he would talk to lil brother and tell him that cool kids go to the li-berry and how lucky he was to have this time with mom. Rolling my eyes I humph, "Forget it. You tell him he's lucky to be hanging out with his mom at the li-berry then he's really gonna kick up a fuss." ANYHOO... Lil brother and I load up in Cutie Pie (the official name of my adorable PT cruiser convertible!) and take a nice trip through town. On the way we have a good convo about this one cool book he talks about all the time. "Do you be'member de snake with de two heads? And de baby with de deformed head?" He loves that weird, creepy stuff... Interesting enough, once we got there, he insists on choosing more books than I had allowed and picks out 2 for his brother...for a grand total of TEN BOOKS!!! Which proves that all that moaning and groaning is just a bellyachin' side show...

On the way home, lil brother who is sitting behind me, says, "Is dat orange in your hair???" I remind him that yes, I had my hair colored auburn recently. And then ask if he likes it. He pauses for a bit then announces, "I like it...it has... pizazz."

Next time I'm letting him check out 20 books and might even consider letting him push the buggy through Wal Mart on our next foray. Pizazz....!!! Who wouldn't want to be me?!?

Self Portrait

In case you've been wondering-this pretty much sums up what's been going on over here at blither blather headquarters. Just ask all the neighborhood kids who knock on my door all damn day long... We all know a picture is worth a 1,000 words...

Day of Total Contenetment (how often do those come around???)

Yesterday was a day of total debauchery. And I have no guilt or remorse. I now know what it feels like to be a cat licking its whiskers and paws as its sprawled on its side-revealing in its own luscious pleasure.

So here's the break down: I spent most of the day curled up on my bed with the remote watching those Kardashians sisters on the E! Entertainment channel (totally trashy!). Just love those silly sisters and their crazy family life! So after 1/2 day of being in the reality tv zone, Mr B made (for me especially!) his amazin' homemade meatloaf, mashed potatoes and peas, and biscuits. I am sorry ya'll couldn't be here for it. It is so good your eyes roll back in your head-almost better than Thanksgiving-NO LIE. Mr B actually follows a real recipe for his meatloaf...who does that?!?!? So after the BEST MEAL EV-AH, I watched some True Blood (oh, those juicy vamps!) and later watched the X-MEN Origins movie with my two favorite knuckleheads: lil brother, who had already seen it, was sooooooo excited to tell us everything he knew about the movie-right before it happened. How cool is it to finally know something your whole family doesn't??? Big kid called him a "total spoiler" but didn't put up much of a fight about it. And I didn't care at all. YAWN! I wanna be a fat house cat in my next life...

Going to the Chapel

Lil brother was pretty agreeable to going to the wedding. But he did clarify, "Are we gonna eat dere?" My affirmative response unleashed a loud whoop of joy from him. Until I told him to tuck in his shirt-which he hates. So I bribed him for shirt tucking by letting him put on his dad's deodorant. "I smell like a man!" he proclaims with macho gusto.

By the time we've sat in the church sanctuary for 20 minutes waiting for the wedding to start, lil brother's shirt has come untucked and he's sprawled across my lap whining, "When can we go home????" Thankfully the event gets underway and the minister leads us in a prayer. At the conclusion of which lil brother echoes the preacher with a loud (and slightly aggressive) "A-men!" before flopping over my lap in complete boredom again. The kid just wants the cake that's been promised him.

Before leaving, I take a pit stop in the girl potty where I stuff my iron fisted control top underwear in the trash can. Enough is enough. I ain't ever doing that again.

Lil brother and I just aren't meant for public events.

BTW-Happy #17 Mr B! You're a keeper!! Luv u Bunny!!!

Holy Crap!

It's been a month since I've gone upstairs to the boys' quarters. Literally-a month. I have made Mr B go only when absolutely critical. And when I question him about the condition of the quarters, he vaguely shrugs and acknowledges that "It needs a little work" (he's afraid I'm gonna ask him to muck it out!). I knew it was gonna be a real sh*t can up there and require a whole lotta mama-hollerin' (of the drill sgt variety), and I just couldn't work up the hutz-pah for it.

So this morning, I called the boys into my front room (known as the 'girl room') and sat them down and gave them a talkin' to. Mostly about visiting their great aunt and uncle and remembering their manners and how old people can't stand loud, fightin' chil'ren. No need trying to soften that reality. "They will NOT like you if you fight each other for the remote and the bag of chips! So stop it!" And they sheepishly agree to try and hold the line on tattle telling, bullying, shoving, and shrieking-upon pain of death (lil brother is glaring at big kid the whole time...biding his time...).

Next-I lay down the hammer: gotta clean upstairs before they can go. Which causes groaning and writhing that looks like they've been struck with a sudden case of African dysentery. "Hey! Enough of that! Look...I hate it too. But listen: I PROMISE that I will not yell at you (they shoot each other a look of disbelief). No matter how bad it is." We have NEVER done serious cleaning without hollerin' and threatenin' and near death experiences. So I understand their skepticism. All I can think is: Brace yourself, Effie...!

And laws ya'll, it was BAD. Actually WORSE than my fears. I had to stop and breathe heavily though my mouth for about 30 seconds to stop the cussing fit that nearly split my skull. But instead I cracked the whip and let the sweat drip. My shirt was wringing wet within minutes like I'd been out in the cotton field at noon. And then we got to lil brother's room... and there were LAYERS of crap piles upon crap piles... "What's all this CRAP doing piled in the corner!?!" I shriek. And from big kid's room across the hall, he says, "Uh-oh, once mom starts saying 'crap' it's gonna get BAD!" So I sent lil brother downstairs to get me an ice water (I really wanted the bottle of Absolut in the freezer), and dug in. Tasting blood in my mouth the whole time from biting my tongue...

So for this 5 minutes, the boy quarters are spic and span (mostly). Thank you, Jesus! Once I'm done writing this however-all bets are off.

Postscript: Before dropping the boys off at Uncle Joe's for their guy's night, I asked big kid how he thought I did on keeping my promise not to holler while cleaning. "Mom, you still have some improving to do. You yelled 'Holy Crap! three times." And I thought I did great-all crap piles considering. Besides-he shoulda heard what I didn't say...

Ugly Truth

Big kid is horrified! Zoe from 6th grade is...a cusser!!! "You mean a girl? The one with black hair and glasses??? And big kid's twin pals confirm the ugly truth. According to them, "She is evil!" And they have a whole year's worth of evidence from homeroom to prove it. Poor big kid... the world is just a lil darker today...

Recommendations:
Mr B and I watched the movie The Book of Eli with Denzel Washington. Excellent! A post apocalyptic story about a man's quest to reveal faith and truth to a world gone bad. LOVE IT!!!

I bought Mr B the Internet sensation book Sh*t my Dad Says for father's day. BUY IT!!! It is laugh out loud hilarious! Your ribs will hurt and you will cry. It's one of the most energetic workouts I've had while reading...in forever. Totally worth the $8.95. And of course you can borrow it from me, too... email me!

Boy Shorts-BEWARE!

I'm throwing away the boy cut panties I recently bought-TODAY as a matter of fact. Because I will not be known as the town-butt-picker any longer. Honestly-there is no place I haven't picked my butt since wearing these modern day torture devices. At this point, I am running straight to the granny panty section. I will pay good money for sweet relief. Remember that scene from Bridgette Jone's Diary where the Hugh Grant character gets all turned on by "The Big Panties" (say it with a British accent-hilarious!)??? That's what I'm going for here...

And check out that retro ad! Disturbing, huh? Wonder if Mr B would be game for this get up???

Alert!

Lil brother busted through the back door all sweaty-headed to report, "Dere's drugs on de table outside! Dus thought you should know bout it." Which meant that I immediately hopped up from the couch where I was idly considering the idea of doing some kind of household chore for the day (it takes a lot to make me "hop" from a prone position, btw) before rejecting such a ridiculous, capricious notion.

And sure enough, evidence from the previous Bunco party was on the patio table: (drum roll!) an ashtray with crushed butts!!!

Wonder what lil brother would have thought if I told him his best friend Millie Pebbles' mama was the culprit??? Hmmmm....might make for interesting writing material at a future date...or at the least, potential blackmail material. Cause you know lil brother is not gonna forget about finding contraband on his back patio. The third grade teacher is gonna get a good story for next year's Red Ribbon Week (btw-Drug Awareness Week is the most dreaded week of the entire year for parents in these here parts because the kids confess to their teachers about all the loaded beer fridges across our town).

Kids today....what can you say? Puritans, I tell ya'.

Noted

Lil brother asked me for a sticky note-which was very strange considering his aversion to the reading/writing arts. Later I find it posted by the front door (note reads: Austin I do not want to play with you). Unsure of the details, I called in big kid to clarify why lil brother no longer wanted to play with Austin. Big kid nonchalantly reveals that Austin kicked lil brother out of his club (for unknown reasons) which prompted the note writing session.

Although amused by lil brother's new method's of communicating, I'm also a little impressed as well. I mean-how clear is that message-posted publically-without messy details to muddy the waters? The simplicity is simply....brilliant.

Later when I get the chance to quiz lil brother for further details, he also tells me that after posting the note he made Austin return his green machine to our garage and told him, "No more drinking my mom's pepsi's in my garage!"

BTW-lil brother is back in the club.

Father's Day

Dear boys,
I would like to tell you that your father is perfect-but the truth is: he’s not. And I even have the evidence to prove it:

When you were babies, he would throw you HIGH into the air (while you giggle-screamed in glee!) just to see how close to the ceiling fan he could get you. I-on the hand-was a nagging, nervous wreck about the whole thing.

Your dad has taught you everything you know-about farts and burping. I wish he could have skipped that part. What could possibly be so funny and entertaining every single time???

Your dad has let you use tools that I would have only allowed-at the age of 21: Remember using the ax???

Your dad has exposed you to some of the frightening and dangerous aspects of the world: the zombie movie and paintball come to mind. Never mind rock wall climbing and white water rafting.

Your dad lets you stay up waaaaayyyyy later than he should on vacay and camp outs and spend the nights. And he listens in. And will get in your friend’s bid’ness.

Oh-and all those violent war games and movies-that’s all on him, by the way.

Your dad is a sucker for a milkshake treat or a pizza and will buy you one at the slightest provocation.

Your dad will holler at you anytime, anywhere, in front of anybody without hesitation or regret. And will even bust your butt-in public. He is never embarrassed. And doesn’t care if you are.

Your dad lets you all off the hook for church on Sunday a little too often for my taste. But you better be ready to bow your head and pray and say your yes ma’ams-every single time. He will not negotiate on these. Ever.

Your dad will tell other people when you have messed up. He doesn’t believe in protecting your privacy. So don’t act stupid… unless you want everyone discussin’ it.

So there it is, guys. You have an imperfect dad. And yes-I would have done things differently-safer at least. Lucky for you-he’s been there for you every adventurous step of the way. And plans to keep it that way. Even when it’s not convenient or wanted. You’ve been warned. Try and stay safe, k?

Love you both to the back door of heaven,
mom

PS: Your dad is gonna LOVE seeing Toy Story 3 with you guys today!!! He's been hanging on to those toys for years now. Please act like you like it too.

Home Again Home Again Jiggedy Jig

Whew! We're home. And how sweet it is. Almost sweeter than vacay itself-strangely enough. I can happily report that the B family had a few good vacay moments during the course of the week (I'm no glutton for happiness, personally). Digging your toes into sun toasted sand and bobbing on sparkling waves-well, what could be better? Although I have friends who chronicle their family's vacay minute-by-orgasmic-minute via facebook and twitter and manage to upload 19,437 joy infused pics by day two, I have never been that lucky to experience that kind of rapturous vacay. Real life always seems to get the best of the B clan. Someone (me) is gonna get too hot, too tired, too sandy, too head-achy, too thirsty, too pissy...you name it. And honestly-vacay is WORK. Mr B nearly killed himself carrying all our necessaries to the beach and back every day. Lordy...I would have left it. Which is probably why he's the official carrier in our family. Mr B sweetly allows me to be an Indian princess when it comes to carrying. Managing the sunblock is about all I'm good for.

In the midst of strenuously working hard to have fun and relax, there's always a moment in every vacay that signals the end. And when that moment arrives, you know it's time to pack up the towels and beer cooler and get your show on the road. Here are a just a few of those B clan moments:

Lil brother accused me of foiling his attempt to ride the perfect wave on his boogie board: "You were in de spot dat I needed!" Out of an entire ocean-I manage to be a buzz kill for the seven year old's dreams and aspirations... Good grief.

Mr B volunteered to do laundry. In a cramped, hot room. With no air conditioner. For 2 and 1/2 hours.

Honey (Mr B's mama) took a Zyrtec at 7:45 PM and emphatically stated (in the voice of Darth Vadar)"DO.NOT.WAKE.ME." And we obeyed...

By Thursday, I had located the vacuum cleaner-and had used it. Twice.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As we are leaving, lil brother announces to the family, "Next year, we're staying for two weeks!" And Mr B and I give each other the eye. Two weeks in paradise... oh, hell!

Vacay Blast Off!

Every vacation I swear this will be the one in which we pack lightly-yeah, right. Maybe next year... So even though I have a few more necessary items to cram in the already bulging suitcases before we hit the road, here's a few vacay tidbits for your amusement!

No man needs a vacation so much as the person who has just had one. ~Elbert Hubbard

A vacation is what you take when you can no longer take what you've been taking. ~Earl Wilson

Those that say you can't take it with you never saw a car packed for a vacation trip. ~Author Unknown

Happy Trails, blither blather'ers!!!

Southern Comfort

Bunco night, a gaggle of gals, and peach sangria is the epitome of Southern good times-the perfect recipe for kicking off summer. Speaking of which-here's the promised peach sangria recipe that my gal-pal Muse Girl had her master mixer prepare for us (served in an old fashioned punch bowl of course!).

Carolina Peach Sangria:
1 bottle of rose wine
1 cup of peach vodka (she swears by Absolut!)
6 tbls of frozen lemonade concentrate
2 tbs sugar (...or shu-gah)
1 lb ripe peaches peeled and sliced
1 package fresh raspberries
2 cups of club soda

Mix first 6 ingredients-cover and chill for 8 hrs. Stir in club soda before serving.

Enjoy!!!

Shocker-Revelation in Wal Mart

Big kid acted all nonchalant and drifted off to another aisle in Wal Mart when I turned the buggy into the feminine care section. In his defense-I guess I did scar him the last time I was picking out tampons, and he was blithely studying the selection with me.

Conversation:
BK: What is this stuff?
Me: Pads and tampons
BK: Who uses this stuff?
Me: Ladies
BK: What do they do with them?
Me: Put them in their underwear.
BK: WHY?????
Me: Because blood comes out ladies' v-g-a's once a month.

And I guess this was just too much...

BK: (shrieking and having a come-apart) WHY?!? WHY?!?! WHY?!? WHY do you say things like that?!?
Me: Because you asked!
BK: Well-next time-just say (frantically thinking)...just say...'You're not old enough to know that stuff.' Okay, mom??? You're not s'posed to tell kids stuff like that. I'm TOO young, mom. Okay??? (pale and wild eyed still)

And although he is nearing hyperventilation, I push my home field advantage and begin to lecture him on God's plan...yadda yadda... and how I better never hear that he's made fun of any girl...yadda yadda... and he better not talk to his lil brother or friends about this cause this is personal...and he turns to me with horror struck disbelief and says, "Why would I EVER talk about this with ANYBODY???"

Looks like true to his words, big kid is avoiding the horrific reality of life as a lady for as long as he can possibly can. Wish I had that luxury... We did get the shocking end of that bargain, huh???

Truth or Dare

Lil brother is always asking me, "Truth or Dare?!?" And then gets really irritated when I aways choose truth. "Why don't you ever choose dare?" he demands. "Well-because I don't want to do one your dares. If I did chose dare, what would you make me do?" And after a moment's pause, he decides, "I dare you to eat a roly-poly!" Exactly my point. I don't do dares.

So once he realizes I am not going to eat a roly-poly and truth is his only option, he scrunches his face into a contemplation pose and then cautiously asks, "Have you ever broken glass...on purpose?" His semi-guilty tone makes me pause from unloading the dishwasher, and I turn and face him to better scrutinize his angelic lil face. "No, I don't think I've ever done that....have you???"

Lil brother: "Hey! It's not your turn!" And I choose dare..."

Family Vacay....here we come!!!

I love this Norman Rockwell painting, Going and Coming. He perfectly captures the spirit of family vacation en route and back (spot-on hilarious!). And vacation is right around the corner for the blither blather clan (including Honey-Mr B's mama). And ya'll can just imagine it's gonna bring out the best in everybody. (Yeah....right). Have ya'll noticed that the best part of vacation is right before vacation. You're living in this fuzzy state of excitement and energy and you're busily planning and fantasizing about the joy inducing activities your clan will happily engage in together. But you've done no laundry or packing and there's still money in the checking account and you haven't even left your own driveway, and it all seems so....lovely. Until your screaming about laundry the night before, the van needs an oil change and tune up immediately, the vet didn't fax over the papers to the kennel, someone can't find his boogie board (mission critical), the chairs from last year are broken, and the cooler has a hole in it, and getting out of your own town takes 3 hours. I would like to say that we are our better selves on vacay; that we exemplify peace and harmony and family bonding. But Mr B and I are gonna have a fuss...or two...at some point. And lil brother will run amok...and big kid will mope....and did I say that Honey's coming along, too???

So real life is gonna happen-even on vacation. Cause real life never takes a vacation... And the only rest I'm gonna get is when I finally return home and am reunited with my pillow and the Vick's Vapor Rub that I forgot on the nightstand.

But s'riously...I Can't Wait!!!

Milestone

Oh, hell! I missed it. My own anniversary-or rather blither blather's first yr anniversary-on May 23rd to be exact. Well-that's probably for the best because ya'll know I could not have resisted the urge to wax poetic or become myopically maudlin or rhapsodize nostalgic. So instead...screw it. We missed the boat, folks. You're off the hook for sending me a boring, obligatory anniversary card. But s'riously-thanks to all ya'll for sticking around while I ran amok over her at blither blather headquarters, took a ride on the crazy train, made an EFL (enemy for life), and created enough Jersey style drama the likes of which those Real Housewives could only dream. So here's to another year of bitchin' and bellachin' and snarkin' and eye rollin'! Stick around...this here she-bang can go bad in a bald headed second.

Here's what the illustrious Mark Twain says about anniversaries:

What ought to be done to the man who invented the celebrating of anniversaries? Mere killing would be too light...
- Notebook, 1896

aahhhh!!!!....summer!

dips in the pool...count for bath time
sunblock...instead of makeup
reading a book every 2 days...not the stinkin' classics!
staying up late...and getting up...whenever.
wearing comfy yoga pants....daily.
working on laundry...on a Tuesday, of all days!
facebooking and texting and blog stalking...mindlessly
naps in the afternoon...followed by snacks...followed by another nap
daydreamin'...beaches and sangria and pals and books

...freedom...

Voices

I've added some new voices to my blog roster that I hope you will check out. These gals come from different walks of life but they all have one thing in common: an authentic voice. See what you think...

Steen Ink-an Irish beauty who has been abandoned by her husband and is raising a toddler and expecting her second baby soon. Beautiful photos...

Ms Single Mama-is a divorced mom raising her son and chronicling the day to day struggles that go with it. A relatable woman...

Smart Bitches Trashy Books- need I say more???

The bloggess.com- Like Mother Teresa, but Better...Quirky!

You can find working links to the right. Just scroll down...

Summer Reading

My summer reading has taken on an unintentional Asian theme in the two novels Shanghai Girls and Honolulu. These two novels have ordinary women in extraordinary circumstances which require them to forsake cultural boundaries and expectations and take dangerous yet necessary risks for their survival. I hope you will check out these works and immerse yourself in the rich settings of Shanghai 1937 and Korea/Honolulu of 1914.


In 1937, Shanghai is the Paris of Asia, a city of great wealth and glamour, the home of millionaires and beggars, gangsters and gamblers, patriots and revolutionaries, artists and warlords. Thanks to the financial security and material comforts provided by their father’s prosperous rickshaw business, twenty-one-year-old Pearl Chin and her younger sister, May, are having the time of their lives. Though both sisters wave off authority and tradition, they couldn’t be more different: Pearl is a Dragon sign, strong and stubborn, while May is a true Sheep, adorable and placid. Both are beautiful, modern, and carefree . . . until the day their father tells them that he has gambled away their wealth and that in order to repay his debts he must sell the girls as wives to suitors who have traveled from California to find Chinese brides.

As Japanese bombs fall on their beloved city, Pearl and May set out on the journey of a lifetime, one that will take them through the Chinese countryside, in and out of the clutch of brutal soldiers, and across the Pacific to the shores of America. In Los Angeles they begin a fresh chapter, trying to find love with the strangers they have married, brushing against the seduction of Hollywood, and striving to embrace American life even as they fight against discrimination, brave Communist witch hunts, and find themselves hemmed in by Chinatown’s old ways and rules.



Honolulu is the richly imagined story of Jin, a young “picture bride” who leaves her native Korea—where girls are so little valued that she is known as Regret—and journeys to Hawaii in 1914 in search of a better life.

Instead of the prosperous young husband and the chance at an education she has been promised, Jin is quickly married off to a poor, embittered laborer who takes his disappointments out on his new wife, forcing her to make her own way in a strange land.

Struggling to build a business with the help of her fellow picture brides, Jin finds both opportunity and prejudice, but ultimately transforms herself from a naive young girl into a resourceful woman. Prospering along with her adopted city, which is fast growing from a small territorial capital to the great multicultural city it is today, Jin can never forget the people she left behind in Korea, and returns one last time to make her peace with her former life.

With its passionate knowledge of people and places in Hawaii far off the tourist track, Honolulu is a spellbinding story of the triumphs and sacrifices of the human spirit that is sure to become another reading group favorite.

Oughta

I oughta...
clean up the lunch mess...
pick up the wet bathing suits...
fold a load of towels...
call and make some appointments...
wash the dishes in the overflowing sink...
empty the dishwasher...
pay some bills...
weed the flower beds...

...tomorrow... I am sure my ambition will show up tomorrow. Gonna go lie down and think 'bout this.