See, you thought this was going to be about a Panda Bear.... Unfortunately, it's not. It was just me, spewing the first word I thought of (after "Random") onto the title bar.
So here's my randomness this week.
1.) Something that bothers me every year around this time is this.... I think I am a semi-ok to good artist and I can't carve pumpkins. I'VE NEVER CARVED A COOL PUMPKIN!!!! That makes me sad.
2.) I have the best video ever to load to this blog, but I don't know how to get it loaded myself, so it may never get done.
3.) Allison mentioned the other day, that I was always her sidekick for Halloween. I never noticed, but there may be some truth in it. One year I was the White Rabbit and Allison was my sidekick though.... you know.... the white rabbit's sidekick? Alice in Wonderland? Isn't that how it goes? The books all about the rabbit? Well maybe not. But this makes me think I must have been a pretty happy kid, because I don't remember being sad about it.
4.) Blogging gets harder when you get a life, but I like having a life. So my internet-blogging life may continue to suffer.
5.) Sometimes I put whiskers and a cat nose on my face and forget they are there. Then little kids come up and ask me "Why do you have that on you face?" and I think, "Damn kid! You've never seen a mole!?" and then I say something like "Because that's just the way my face is." and then I get out to the car and look in the mirror and see my cat face and realize that kid wasn't a jerk and now he's telling his mom that a lady at the park has a permanent cat face.
6.) I want to go trick-or-treating.... I love candy, but I think my neighbors will know I'm not a kid. Isn't that sad? No candy for me..... sad sad sad.
7.) I love you guys..... and for that reason I am determined to figure out my halloween video and post it VERY soon.
This is the first car I've ever driven........
When I was 10.
Ok, Why was I driving at 10 years old? A few reasons:
#1. I'm the middle child and I need attention.
#2. I was only going to move it back 10 feet.
#3. I was confident and it looked pretty easy.
#4. My mom was on the phone and I didn't want to wait.
So the story, my version at least, goes like this:
I wanted to play basketball and hone in on my mad skills, because I needed to practice so I could play in the NWBA. (Yes, I wanted to be a professional basketball player.) I asked my mom if she could move the car and she told me to wait because she was on the phone. I waited at least 15-1 minutes. Maybe it was closer to the 1 minute mark, she was taking a while on the phone.
I was good at getting attention when I wanted it. So I began to make remarks like.
"Mom, you're taking forever. I'm going to move it myself."
"Mom, where are your keys?"
"I found your keys! I'm gonna go move the car."
Then I walked outside and slammed the door behind me. I was sure she would be right behind me. I walked to the car and looked back at the door. She wasn't coming yet.
I got in the car and slammed the door and sat for a minute. Still no sign of Mom.
I put the keys in the engine and started it up. STILL NO MOM!
Well, I think I've seen this done about one thousand times. I can do it. So I put my foot on the brake... Wait.... this IS the brake right? Yeah this is definitely the brake. I slip the car into whatever, the R mode is, I let got of the brake and I start rolling forward. Wait a stinkin' minute... I wanted to move the car back... not forward. How do I stop this? What did I do wrong? As the car begins to scrape the side of the house I realize I am in the N mode not the R. So I slam the bar back to R and plan on moving it back to the original spot without Mom ever knowing. Well it was too late.....
Mom was behind the car at this point screaming at me to stop and get out of the car. I didn't know about rear view mirrors and stuff and am already backing up. My mom quickly jumps out of the way and continues trying to get my attention. I see her and put on the brakes she yells at me to get out of the car. I obey, as usual, I always follow the rules. See I'm a good kid. I got out and Mom returned the car to it's spot on the driveway. On the DRIVEWAY!?!? In front of the hoop?!?!
Wait, I don't get to play basketball?!? What? I have to go to my room? Now I'm never going to be a professional basketball player! Thanks Mom!
Hello all of you beautiful people! I have wonderful plans brewing for a blog series, called Home Movies featuring "Coily".... That's me, just in case you were wondering. I have a new site up and it is not done, but you should check it out! I love you guys and I think I will leave you with this. Allison used to call umbrellas.... "rainbrellas" How CUTE is that?
Noah got baptized yesterday morning and I think that kid really loves church, God, Jesus, and old priests. Or he loves life and just smiles all the time, but I like to think on his baptism day that was what he was happy about Jesus.
As the Godmother of Noah I was given a folded napkin-looking thing and the Godfather was given a candle. Honestly, I didn't know what either of these things were for. I was not raised Catholic and haven't been to an infant baptism in quite some time. First, Noah was prayed for and his parents and Godparents promised to be an example of Christ in Noah's life. He liked that.
Then we went to the alter and he was baptized in the holy water and the Priest talked to him. He liked that.
Then I figured out what the heck the cloth thing was, it was a baptismal garment to be placed over Noah's shoulders. I think he liked that too.
Then the Godfather lit a candle symbolizing the light of Christ in our lives. He liked that.
Then Grace, Noah's big sister, realized this thing wasn't all about her.
And she threw a temper tantrum.
But don't worry Noah probably liked that too.
After the ceremony we went back to Noah's house for a party ate some and watched some football.
The only thing I heard Noah complain about that day was this.
His Grandma and Great-Grandma wore the same outfit! Not really, but kinda. I didn't notice until he said something, but Noah I think you're right. "Total fashion faux pas." WHAT!?! He said it, NOT ME!!!! Don't look at me that way grandma...!! I'm just teasing you! Love you guys!
Chris and I got married close to 5 years ago and our first Spring in our first house we got a major bug issue. I hear this is pretty common in the beginning of the Spring, but I couldn't believe it. We had ants galore all over our home. Those crafty little buggers made their way into MY home and I was going to make sure they found their way out!
I did the first "new wife-y" kind of thing I could do..... act helpless to my husband. (I know this is not looking good on the woman self empowerment front.) I called him and he didn't sound too worried about the ant infestation that had begun to take over our tiny home. I informed him it was no small matter and that I needed help. Alas, I would have to wait for my Knight in shining armor to get off work.
I hid in my basement until I heard Sir Knight walk through the front door. I took him too the sink and showed him our issue. He quickly brushed all visible ants into the sink and sprayed them down the drain. He said that was probably the end of that. I told him I was glad he was home because, "I was minutes from calling the terminator."
He looked at me and asked me who I was going to call.
"The Terminator! You know who kills bugs."
He stared at me.....
*Crickets (or ants) chirping*
I'm thinking "What...? This guy has never heard of a "terminator"?"
What is he laughing about, it's not funny. IT'S NOT THAT FUNNY! Lot's of people call the "terminator" to help solve their bug problems. Right?
Well, fine I will go Google the closest terminator and ask them to solve the bug problem. who needs a stinkin' Knight in shining armor?
As, I start to do another new wife-y thing, pout and storm off, it dawns on me...... "EX!"
"EX"terminator! EXTERMINATOR! Damnit! He'll never let me forget this.
Well, it's a good thing I didn't call for a "Terminator", I don't think he could have resolved my bug problem and it's probably best I didn't get a hold of him. If the Terminator tried to take on exterminating our ants, my kitchen would have probably been one large crater and then we never would have been able to sell it. I mean.... Who wants a crater for their kitchen?
My dear friends Fran informed me that a saga contains more than two stories, someone should inform her of the virtue "patience".
So the saga continues:
I used to work as a corrections officer in a local jail and it was an interesting job. Not just because of the felons I saw day in and day out. Or the fights, or the handcuffs, or the maglites. It was mostly because of the odd people I worked with. Like a man I will call "Mr. Flynn" to protect the innocent.
One day I was visiting "Mr. Flynn" and he had a knack for saying the darndest things. and he told me I look like... Guess.... Guess who he told me I look like.
No, not beautiful gorgeous Charlize Theron.
Guess again.
Nope, not Scarlett Johansson.
Guess again.
OK give up!
I know this was going to be your next guess.
Well, if you guessed George Hamilton, you guessed correctly. (It doesn't count if you remember this from my Facebook status. That's cheating.)
Don't you see the resemblance?
Obviously we were separated at birth.
I mean look at our hair, it's the exact same shade of Blondey-black.
You certainly can't deny it.... it must be our skin tone, we were both going for that tanny-pale look.
Oh wait, I see what "Mr. Flynn" meant. He was saying how much I looked like a man. I get it. Yeah, I totally see how much I look like that George Hamilton guy.
Or wait.... maybe it's the mole.
Damn mole, always going and trying to make me look like George Hamilton. I'm going to have it removed.
Well, it's interesting to me that's all that matters....Right?
My new favorite thing is going out and taking pictures and my friend Kelly from Daphne Photo Studio has been letting me go along on shoots with her. I have also done a few solo and it is not as easy as it seems. You have to direct people: tell people how to sit, move their hands, choose a setting, etc. This is what I've been up to over the past couple weeks and I've really been enjoying it.
So here are a few shots I took:
These are from an in love session with Kelly.
And, these are from a baby session with Kelly.
And here are a few I did alone.
Baby Edie, my cousin's little girl.
Look at her little ear folding down! She kills me.
Here are the Paff Babies, my best bud Joanna's little cuties.
So that's what has been keeping me from blogging, I'm looking through 1,000's of pictures some days! Remember I love you and here's a little story for you.
Harrison ate some of his own poop. It was disgusting and hopefully accidental, but from what I hear not too unusual. UGH... it was bad and I hope he remembers what it tastes like and doesn't try it EVER again!!!!
Speaking of pumps..... I'm am super pumped.
One of my photos made it onto Pioneer Woman's Photography Blog! There were over 7,000 submissions, so I feel good about being one of the twenty portraits chosen to be featured.
It is this photo that I took of sweet little Grace. You may remember her from here.
Some of you may not know The Pioneer Woman, but I think she is a hilarious blogger and known the world over so you are a little behind if you are hearing about her from me. (I think 4 people read my blog. So she's probably getting a lot of traffic coming from my site today. Her server will probably crash.)
Go check her out and bake me something amazing after visiting her cooking page.
OK, I can't find a great pic to describe my story #2 of the mole saga. But I think I will describe it well enough. We'll see. For now, here is a pic of my face if you need a reference during the story.
When I was in middle school I might not have been the nicest person. I can't really remember, but I say that because I must have hurt this boy's feelings. We were in language arts class and in the 7th grade and I remember sitting there and all of the sudden he, Brett, called me "Buddha". I, of course, think Brett is talking about the big fat happy Buddha and I really can't figure out where it came from. Then he starts pointing to his forehead saying "Buddha, Buddha, Buddha" over and over and over again. Then he changes up his hand position and has each of his hands are on the side of his head and he's now SINGING "Buddha, Buddha.....". Then he breaks out in dance and is still calling me Buddha. I told him he was an idiot and he stopped shortly after.
It took me quite a bit of time to figure out what was going on...... at least 10 minutes. As I gazed over into my reflection in the window I knew why his hands were on the side of his head. I was wearing my hair in pigtails, but the Buddha thing was still puzzling. I looked at myself just a bit closer and saw I had 2 moles in the middle of my forehead. I never thought much about those particular moles. Hmmmmm, maybe I have a permanent Bindi, or maybe that kid is a schmuck and I should've smacked him when I had the chance.
The thing is, I didn't feel bad about myself or think much about the way I looked that made the boy tease me. I have never gotten the image of this boy dancing and singing and chanting with his hands on the side of his head. I think if he knew how dumb he looked he probably would take it back, because I will never forget that! I am sure he has long forgotten my moles and pigtails.
By the way Brett, Buddha would never make fun of someone. If I believed in Karma I would say you are in for some good teasing right about now.
I don't know how many of you have noticed. I am never sure how it looks to other people or if people even pay attention. I have something on my face. Well, a few things on my face. I have many moles, many many moles. ("MANY, MANY POGS!!!", a different story for a different time. Wait, but do you guys remember pogs? I loved pogs. Ok, I digress.)
See Exhibit A:
Why, hello mole! Nice of you to show up! I was just talking about you.
I don't know how many people experience talk about their moles but I have a few memories surrounding them. So, odd or not, I will share them with you now.
(Side note worth mentioning. My friends and I used to count all visible moles in class when we were bored, one time we got up to 50 or so.)
Memory #1 "Bus Mole" (See... I'm creative with my titles, because this one happened on a bus.)
In elementary school I would ride the bus to and from school every day. When I was in the 5th grade I finally got to sit in the back of the bus. That's something you had to wait for on our bus, like a privilege meant for the older kids. Less supervision and more goofing off happened at the back of the bus, so it was obviously the best place to be.
I went to a public school and I don't know if it's any different than private school, but all the boys started talking about kissing when they were around 10 or so. (Sorry to all of you mothers of boys around 10. It happens, your boy talks about kissing or at least thinks about it. Sorry if I burst some bubbles there.) KISSING!!! Yuck! I was a tomboy and kissing did not cross my mind... well rarely crossed my mind. But there was this boy on my bus who was obsessed with kissing. He would make smoochie sounds at me and ask to make out and I would cringe at the thought.
I would say "I would never kiss you. That's like totally gross."
I REALLY did not want to kiss this boy, EVER!
One day as I was getting off the bus I felt a tug on my shoulders from behind me. I didn't turn around, because I knew it was Mr. Kissy-Face. I tried to keep walking but he wouldn't let go of my shoulders. I finally pulled away from him and turned around to give him a nasty look and he jumped up and kissed me. Oh, my heart sank as he quickly popped up into my face and took a quick peck. Wait, did he just.... Yes, he missed. I ran off the bus as all the boys around him were laughing and I remember sprinting down the stairs and onto the pavement with the boy behind me, Mr. Kissy-Face, screaming "Yeah, I kissed her mole!!" Uhhhhhh... weird.... does it count as a first kiss if it was on the mole? I'm not sure, but that was one of the most horrifying experiences I had on any bus ride, EVER!
After that story I need some time to process. Grieve my mole virginity. I have an even more traumatizing one for tomorrow. Come back for Mole Saga #2 tomorrow, with an even more creative name. "Mole Buddha". Are you curious?
Ok so after I post these pictures I will accept that I cannot change the fact the we are back in Cincinnati and will get on with writing my blog in more regular intervals. Unlike some people I know who blog more often when they are on vacation. So now I give you...... Photo Vomit.
Yes, my two year old smokes cigars. What's it to ya'?
Ok, he didn't really smoke a cigar, but he did have lots of fun this week.
Ohhhhh Vacation..... I miss you. Come back soon
