My Phone Call from Jail

Last night, as we were drifting off to sleep, Hubby and I got into a deep discussion.

Politics, you ask?  Religion, perhaps?

No, we were discussing whom we would use as our one and only phone call if either of us ever ends up in jail.

Hypothetically, of course. 

You see, I’m pretty sure Hubby would call his oldest brother, the Cluer (called such because he tried to use “cluer” in a Scrabble game and I challenged him because I don’t think there’s a term to describe one who clues.)  Years ago, when Hubby passed the CPA exam after studying diligently for months instead of taking me to the movies/dinner/drinks, the first person he called was his brother. 

Instead of calling the love of his life, the woman who encouraged him endlessly, believed in his abilities, and sang his praises to anyone who asked about his whereabouts, he called his brother. 

His most recent excuse is that “we were barely dating then.”

Um, it was 1998.  We had been dating for four years.  I’m sorry, but if you’ve seen my in my skivvies and/or hot rollers, WE’RE DATING. 

Furthermore, I find it odd that Hubby would propose marriage later that same year to someone with whom he apparently only had a casual relationship.

. . . but I don’t hold grudges. 

Ahem.

So we’ve established that Hubby’s phone call from jail would be to his brother, and naturally Hubby assumed my one-and-only phone call would be to him.

See?  Look!  Cute outfits . . .

“I’m not making any phone calls,” I announced.

“What?  You have to.”

“Well, I might order a pizza or something,” I responded, “but I’m not calling you to come get me.”

“You can’t order pizza from jail.”  Because, you know, he knows all about what’s allowed and what’s not.  Pfffft . . .

“I’m not calling anyone.  Are you kidding?  Three meals a day that I don’t have to cook, a bed I don’t have to share, and lots and lots of quiet time.”  It sounds lovely, no?  Maybe Martha could come back and we could knit stuff.  Or I could get my law degree!

“How would you pass your time?” he asked, no doubt because now he’s worried I’m gonna go shoplift or something.

“Give me my Kindle, my blanket, and my teddy bear and I’d be a happy girl."

“I’m pretty sure they’re not going to let you take your Kindle.  Besides, aren’t you worried you’ll become Big Bertha’s b*tch?”

“Um, I’m pretty sure if I have to share a cell with someone, I’D be the Big Bertha of the two of us.  Give me a nice Meth addict and leave me the heck alone.”

You’ve all had this SAME conversation at some point, right?

Now who do I speak to about the dress code, because I’ll wear orange if I must, but I’m NOT wearing horizontal stripes.

The Angels are Singing: it's Back to School Time!

It’s the most wonderful time of the year!  I’ve been singing it all week!  We had a great summer and I enjoyed having the boys home – I loved sleeping in late, staying in pj’s until noon, and splashing at the pool. 

But it was time.

I have neither the physical nor the mental stamina to entertain and stimulate 3 children any longer.  God bless the homeschooling mom . . . I don’t know how you protect yourself from rocking-back-and-forth smooshy brain.  I couldn’t do it.  We love each other a little more if we spend approximately 7 hours apart per day.

For those of you lamenting, “where did the summer go?”  I’ll tell you:

 

One of Mommy's FAVORITEST things to do:
take all three kids to the tire place!

• It went to the dentist
• It went to countless movies and ate many a bucket of popcorn
• It went to basketball camp
• It went to Dinosaurland in White Post, VA
• It got a new basketball hoop
• It went to the pool
• It saw a Washington Nationals game
• It baked cookies
• It saw a Baltimore Orioles game
• It got new tires for the Swagger Wagon
• It saw two Richmond Flying Squirrels games
• It built forts out of blankets and pillows
• It survived a storm that may or may not have been a tornado
• It visited Uncle Chris and Aunt Kathy and our new baby cousin, Maya
• It had eye surgery
• It went to Vacation Bible School
• It constructed Lego masterpieces
• It went to the county fair
• It paid a visit to Patient First
• It went on bike rides
• It saw the Demolition Derby and the Rodeo
• It went to a National Symphony Orchestra concert at Wolf Trap
• It went to baseball practice
• It watched The Muppets and/or Cars EVERY day
• It cleaned and purged closets
• It went to Hershey Park
• It had several sleepovers
• It went to Granny and Papa’s



It's hard work sitting in the seat while
Mommy pedals all over the 'hood.

• It went to Sesame Place

 I'm tired.  You kids enjoy gettin’ your Learn on.  Mommy’s gonna take a nap.

Verbal Vomit

I made a small purchase yesterday, and the total came to $6.30.  I pulled out my wallet so that I could pay in cash, which never happens to me.  I rarely have cash and use my credit card for everything.  This is Hubby’s way of tracking my purchases.  He thinks I don’t know this.  I do.  We spent the first ten years of our marriage arguing about why I never document my purchases in the check register, and so now the credit card company does it for me.  Everybody wins.

When I prepared to pay for my items, I pulled out a wad o’ cash. 

I could have paid the $6.30, said thank you, and been on my way . . . but NO.  I felt the need to explain.

“We just went to Hershey Park last weekend.  That’s why I have all this cash,” I said.

The saleswoman smiled, probably a bit taken aback by my verbal spewage.

“I just didn’t want you to think I’m a drug dealer,” I continued.

Awkward smile.

“Or a stripper,” I chuckled as I folded my singles.

Please, make it stop.

“You know, we stay-at-home moms have to make some money somewhere!”

I should not be allowed to wander alone in the wild.

Jury Duty . . . yes, please!

Earlier this week I received a summons for jury duty.  

Can you imagine?  An entire day of sitting with my book or a few magazines just perusing at my leisure?  And they have coffee there!  I could drink caffeinated goodness all day long.  When and if they call my name, I'd get to parade in front of well-educated (presumably) people who would decide if the former High School English teacher / Stay-at-Home Mom / Mommy blogger with a wicked sense of humor is the gal they want deciding the fate of their court case.

I could put on makeup and wash my hair and wear something other than my sweat shorts and a ponytail.  I could spend the day with other grown-ups, (ALL of whom must be at least 18-years-old,) listen to grown-up topics, have grown-up discussions, and make grown-up decisions.  

Books?  Coffee?  Being ALL UP in somebody else's business?  Sign me up!

Alas, I have these little people at home who need someone to pack their lunches, remind them to please-for-the-love-of-pete close the garage door, and nurture their little souls all day long.  Jurors are paid $30 a day for their service.  That only pays for 3 hours of child care.  

I apologize America, but I will be unable to fulfill my civic duty.  I faxed the following this morning:

43434 My Street

Somewhere, VA  20000

Friday, August 14, 2012

County Jury Management Office

PO Box 550

Somewhere, VA  20000

To Whom It May Concern:

I have been summoned for jury duty and instructed to report on Thursday, September 27.  My juror ID is #000123456, group # 0012. 

I am a stay-at-home mom to three children, one of whom is not yet school age.  While I would love a day that did not require me to wipe noses or other body parts, I do not have child care.  Hiring a sitter in this economy would require dipping into my children’s college fund.

I can be reached at 703.777.7777

Thank you for your consideration.

Sincerely,

Boy Mommy

What I'm ---ing.

Recently I noticed this pin on Pinterest:

from Wendolonia

I can barely put a sentence together without either being interrupted or accidentally losing my train of thought, so I would be hard pressed to come up with coherent musings on my feelings.  So you pick; which one do you think would be MY response?

LISTENING –

A.  to the sweet sounds of my children’s laughter.  

B.  to silence because we’re enjoying Family Reading Time.  

C.  to the dog whine because he is out of water/needs to pee/is generally annoying and listening to Small race giant cars across my hardwood floors and then bang them into the wall while saying “Aw!  Come ON!” 

EATING – 

A.  nutritious foods that nourish my body.  

B.  Wha?  I just remembered, I haven’t eaten yet today.  I forgot to eat!  

C.  nothing at the moment, but I have been chowing down all ever-lovin’ day.  Must find a padlock for the fridge/pantry.  Or my mouth. 

DRINKING –

A.  water.  

B.  an avocado smoothie I found on Pinterest.  Delish!  

C.  two glasses of cranberry juice because I feel a UTI coming on, and even though I will be able to self-diagnose, I will not be able to write myself a prescription and the doctor’s office will force me to make an appointment.  I don’t have time to go to the leg-spreader these days, so cranberry juice it is . . .  

WEARING – 

A.  the workout clothes I put on first thing this morning.  

B.  a sweet little Lilly Pulitzer outfit.  

C.  a ponytail and a visor to cleverly hide the fact that I haven’t washed my hair since sometime at the end of last week.  Seriously can’t remember which day it was. 

FEELING – 

A.  blessed that I have so many wonderful things for which to be thankful.

B.  energized and excited to tackle the rest of my day!  

C.  proud of myself for at least putting on some clean undies.

WANTING – 

A.  to invite several of my children’s friends over to play a rousing game of Monopoly.  

B.  to join my girlfriend who took her three children to Hershey Park by herself.  

C.  to enjoy these last few weeks of summer with my boys without wanting to strangle them, duck tape them to the furniture, or see what I could get for them on eBay within the first few minutes of starting our day.

NEEDING – 

A.  to take some clothes in to the tailor so that she can take them in a few inches.  

B.  to cancel our subscription to Nickelodeon and the Disney Channel, because they never watch either.  

C.  to carve some time out for myself.  I mean REAL time, not the 30 seconds it takes me to pee, or the five minutes it takes me to shower, or the 10 minutes I steal as the boys are preoccupied with activities TV.  

THINKING – 

A.  putting my career on hold for 10 years has definitely made me feel more intelligent and socially competent than I have ever been.  

B.  laundry is my reason for Being. 

C.  I’ve been wearing “mom jeans” for years now and nobody told me.  F*ckers.

 ENJOYING – 

A.  a hot cup of coffee and a quiet moment of reflection.  

B.  a complete, uninterrupted conversation with another grown up.  

C.  my neighbor’s gossip magazines, because I’m too cheap to subscribe myself and yet not too proud to ask her to stick them in my paperbox when she’s finished.

[BTW, I left WEATHER off for two reasons:

1.  it's f'ing hot.  When it's so hot that your eyelids are sweating the last thing you want is for one more person to tell you it's hot.

2.  it's not parallel with the gerunds and it bugs me.  My fellow English teachers will understand.]  

Chick-Fil-A, You Betrayed Me . . . OR Why the Chief Chicken Maker Should Shut His Pie-Hole

I steer away from political commentary on Facebook because, to me, it’s like listening to children argue.  I do that all day anyway; why would I want to do it while reading.  I’d rather be informed of what you ate for dinner or how many times you’ve been to the gym this week than listen to 350 of my closest “friends” explain why they’re right and everyone else is wrong. 

The thing is, we’re all right.

I’m a Democrat and Hubby is a Republican.  We vote on different issues.  I love him and he loves me, and we agree to disagree about our politics.  There’s no way I’m going to change his mind, nor he mine.  I have rational, educated reasons that support what I believe and so does he; that makes both of us right. 

Up until now I’ve kept quiet about the Chick-Fil-A debate, mostly because I wasn’t sure exactly how I feel about it.  I’m a big believer in Freedom of Speech, even if what’s being spoken isn’t something about which I agree.  I do not partake in pornography, for instance, but I support the publication of it.  It’s not my preference, so I make a conscious choice not to purchase it, but I’m not about to act all holier-than-thou and tell you that you can’t.

I understand why many people are defending Dan Cathy and his Freedom of Speech.  He certainly has that right and he has exercised it.  Chick-Fil-A has a unique business model that is rooted in Christian values, and I’m okay with that. 

But just cook the d*mn chicken.  That’s your job.  You’ve gone and started this whole sh*t-storm and now I can’t eat the chicken.

Our country is run by people who have different religious and political views - many of which are different from mine.  If a job is done well, it really isn’t any of my concern if you’re Christian or otherwise. 

I really don’t care what the man who fries my chicken thinks about marriage.

What I do care about is that we haven’t learned from our mistakes.  This photo is circulating on Facebook:

The similarities are eerie.  In our parents’ generation, some people didn’t want black children to go to public schools with white children because of the color of their skin.  It wasn’t because they were bad people; it was because of skin color.  Eventually the Supreme Court decided that every student has a fundamental right to education. 

Isn’t it conceivable that maybe it’s time for a change . . . that it’s time for us to decide that every person has a fundamental right to legally share a life with the person of his/her choosing?  Is this the photo we want running in our children’s history books?

It is ironic that Cathy stated, “I think we are inviting God’s judgment on our nation when we shake our fist at Him and say, ‘We know better than you as to what constitutes a marriage.’ I pray God’s mercy on our generation that has such a prideful, arrogant attitude to think that we have the audacity to define what marriage is about.”

Um, isn’t that exactly what YOU’re doing, Mr. Cathy . . . defining marriage as only being between a man and a woman?  Since when is the guy who runs a chicken joint the authority on right and wrong?

Perhaps I don’t have enough backbone.  I was thinking just the other day how wonderful it is that Starbucks supports fair trade.  If they were not supporters of free trade, would I stop drinking their coffee?  Doubtful.  I have told my boys, however, that we will not be eating at Chick-Fil-A. 

“Forever???” they asked.  (Insert audible gasps here. . .)

I don’t know.  I do loves the Chick-Fil-A, but at the moment, I would feel guilty if I supported their business.  I don’t care if YOU go, because in the big scheme of things, I realize that my money or lack thereof is not going to make or break their business.  But right now I just can’t spend my money there knowing that their Chief Chicken Maker was so vocal about being homophobic. 

I ask you this: what if he had said that marriage is only to occur between a white man and a white woman or a black man and a black woman?  Ludicrous.  Why does using the word “gay” make his argument socially acceptable to some people?  A man and a woman who do NOT love each other can legally share their lives/finances/benefits with each other, but two people of the same gender who are committed to one another cannot. 

It just doesn’t make any sense, and I can’t see the God that I choose to believe in penalizing people for qualities such as skin color, sexual orientation, or gender.  The Power in which I believe wants us to be kind to one another, to accept one another with ALL of our faults and shortcomings, and to be good people . . . not to interpret the Bible in ways that will benefit our own agendas.

So, for now, I’m not eating at Chick-Fil-A, and I explained to my boys that the Chief Chicken Maker went public with some comments that were not very nice and that excluded boys who love boys and girls who love girls, and in our family, that ain’t right. 

Mr. Cathy, make it right so I can enjoy the delectable chicken.  And waffle fries.  And milk shakes.  Issue a statement that indicates that you are firm in your own beliefs (which I respect) but that you are not the Decider of What is Right and What is Wrong and you shoulda kept your pie-hole shut. 

Turns Out I'm a Little More Country and a Little Less Rock and Roll

I recently bought tickets to see the Zac Brown Band in October, and I started contemplating all the concerts I have seen over the years.  I thought, based on my ipod playlists, that I had pretty eclectic tastes.  I’ve got Barry Manilow, Hank Jr., the Beastie Boys, CeeLo, Conway Twitty, Def Leppard, Elvis Costello, Gotye, Harry Chapin, Ice Cube, Willie Nelson, Jane's Addiction, Janis Joplin, Juliana Hatfield 3, David Allan Coe, Kid Rock, Ladysmith Black Mambazo, The Byrds, Metallica, Michael Buble, N’Sync, Led Zeppelin, Juice Newton, Neil Young, U2, Neil Diamond, OMD, Ozzy, Paul McCartney, Pink Floyd, Pure Prairie League, Ronnie Milsap, Johnny Cash, Salt & Pepa, Sir Mix-a-Lot, the Sundays, and Taco, to name a few.  That’s eclectic, right? 

Then I started thinking about the concerts I’ve actually attended.  Turns out I’ve got a bit of a “type.” 

Beach Boys – this was my very first concert.

Coolio – ‘member?  He had that song?  I think it was 5 bucks a ticket in college.

Indigo Girls – and this was before I even owned Birkenstocks.

Reba – I’m kinda over her now . . .

Tony Bennett – I went by myself.  Hubby bought me a single ticket (so I actually had a really good seat) because he was promoting his Duets album and he’d be singing with James Taylor.

Free Bird!

Lynyrd Skynyrd – what?  Nobody else is wearing their sterling bead necklace?  This place was like a Jorts Convention. 

Toby Keith – the man can rock a stage and I can rock some Miller Lites.

Brooks and Dunn – we took Large to this concert in the Baby Bjorn when he was about 5 weeks old.  Best.  Parents.  Ever.

Alabama – I knew they were in town when I saw their trailer parked at the HoJo’s where I lived my freshman year of college.  (Long story.)

John Denver – I have great memories of sitting on the lawn at Wolf Trap listening to John Denver and his guitar.  To hear "Rocky Mountain High" live was to be close to God.

Kenny Rogers – he still sounds great but he needs to embrace his age.  Embrace it, Kenny.  Don’t fight it.

Justin Roberts - He's a children's performer, but his stuff is so catchy.  We're total groupies and we're  kinda stalking him.

Justin Roberts.  Hot, in that nerdy sorta way . . . 

George Jones – He showed up.  George Jones fans will understand why this is a big deal.

Phil Collins – I knew the words to EVERY song.  Hello 1988!

Genesis – not as good as Phil by himself.  Totally different vibe and many more old people mumbling about Peter Gabriel.

Toad the Wet Sprocket – College roomies were really into Toad.  If you are cool, you just call them Toad.  Toad.

Barry Manilow -  very sparkly.  Loves me some Barry.

James Taylor – um, I’ve seen him once or twice.  Hehe.  James Taylor is the only concert for which I’ve spent the night outside for tickets. (And it was in the 90’s, not the 60’s!)  I’ve seen him almost every year since 1992.  I’ve gotten his autograph, had my photo taken with him, and traveled to various cities to see him perform live.  I've been to the Today show more than once when he's been a guest.  I even saw him in concert 9 days before I delivered Large, when I was HUGELY pregnant and it poured rain.  I like him.  A lot.

Hello, James.  It's me again . . . 

Ben Taylor – James’s son. 

Kate Taylor – James’s sister.

Steve Miller – I was worried it wouldn’t be a great concert because of all the instrumental “stuff” they’ve got going on, but it was flippin’ awesome.

Chicago – so very 80’s.

Carole King -  it was a package deal with James Taylor.  She made me feel like a natural woman though.

Hootie and the Blowfish - bought the tix for Hubby because I thought he'd be psyched.  Big birthday disappointment.

Kenny Chesney – before he got big . . . I think he was opening for Toby Keith?

Simon & Garfunkel – Saw the Old Friends tour.  They are geniuses, and it’s a great memory because I saw them with my friend “Mary” who passed a few years later.

Bon Jovi – saw them in Vegas when we were on our Babymoon, and I’m pretty sure I got high from second-hand smoke.  It’s all good, man, but puff-puff-pass.

Don Henley -  he was at a charity gala, which is cool if you’re a big fan, which I am not.

Eddie from Ohio – used to see them in local bars.  Now I listen to Robbie Schaeffer on Kids Place Live.  My, how times have changed.

Keith Urban – I’m gonna say it . . . not a HUGE fan. 

Sugarland -  I group them in the Reba category.  A little too twangy and forced for my taste.  I’m more of an acoustic type of gal, and I always feel like I want to give her a lozenge.

GooGoo Dolls – in Seattle when Hubby was on a business trip.  Wore ear plugs.  I like them, but I’m in my 30’s for goodness sake.

Clearly I was born in the wrong generation.  I know all the words to "White Rabbit," but I can't tell you the difference between the GooGoo Dolls and Green Day, and don't get me started on the new boy bands.  I'm still trying to figure out how Justin Timberlake evolved from that curly-headed adolescent geek into the man who brought sexy back.