November 2009

Yeah, as far as you know it’s real.

Bella? Eat your heart out. Edward is MINE. Sure, I’m old enough to be his mother, but Pfft. I’m a hot mess of a cougar.

Please…no one tell The Man.

xo,
TSM

PS: 12 days to New Moon….SWOON!!!

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Wow, I’ve been pretty absent this week. I have a reason though. The Man has been out of town this week with our son at his 5th grade camp and I have been here with Miss G just waiting for something to happen.

Paranoid you say? Pfft I say to you. You see, history plays on my side on this particular subject because every time The Man leaves town, something bad happens at the house.

Cases in point:

1996: The Man goes to The Olympics in Atlanta to work for his Dad’s company who was the official provider of Margaritas at the event. Centennial Park is bombed and all cell phone coverage goes dead. I stayed awake all night thinking he was dead, he slept soundly through the entire thing and wondered why I was hysterical when he called me upon waking the next morning.

1998: The Man takes off for Australia with his Dad on an all expenses paid business trip. The dog we had then had been recently diagnosed with diabetes and while he spent the week petting Koala bears, I spent my time cleaning up pee and giving injections to a snarling Schnauzer. Also, the cat dies days before he leaves and I am left with nothing to carry around in my arms like a baby. Exactly nine months after his arrival back on American soil, Mr. C arrived to fill the void.

2001: The Man leaves for training to open his new golf store. My best friends Mom dies and he is immediately summoned home. Not only are we both incredibly sad because we loved her so much, but I am also pregnant with Miss G and cannot contain my emotions for one minute, let alone take care of our toddler son.

2002: The Man leaves for Florida for a golf show in January. Texas turns into Antartica overnight and we get the biggest freeze we have had in ages. After collecting toddler son from pre-school, arrive home to find our driveway has turned into a geyser as a main pipe has frozen and burst through the brick wall. Exit car to try and fix it myself, freeze half to death, further reinforce proper use of eff bombs to same toddler son who has already demonstrated his prowess in such matters after getting soaked with freezing gush of water in less than 30 degree temps. Water to house is shut off for 24 hours, which can be an issue when you have a potty training son.

2003: The Man leaves for another golf show and the dog escapes. Not Mr. Potter for he is far to slow to cause an issue, this dog was a Shiba Inu who could sprint faster than Carl Lewis and was brilliant in her ability to cover territory not suited for human feet. This happens as a toddling Miss G is wreaking havoc on our home and as a UPS Man arrives to deliver a package. Torn between leaving her with the UPS Man so I can sprint after the dog myself, I opt to carry her along and offer the UPS Man ten bucks to join me in the hunt. UPS Man declines, I spend an hour running after a dog I didn’t like very much in the first place while carrying a 22 pound toddler in my arms. Toddler vomits all over me, chase continues until dog is secured and dragged back to house growling while Miss G screams and neighbors look on in horror. Did I mention I was in my PJ’s while this happened? No? Well that would just be overkill.

I never let him leave me alone after those incidents. But when Mr. C came to us and said he’d really like one of us to be there with him at camp…I had no choice. So for the past several weeks, I have braced myself for what could go wrong here. I’ve had some strange lights coming on in my car for service, didn’t have time to check. Swine flu is everywhere and I was on a plane this week with a guy who sounded like he was spitting a lung behind me. Miss G is getting ready for a cheer competition and I am scared to death they are going to drop from her moving pyramid and break something. Also, the toilet broke last week…he fixed it but I’m giving it the side eye for a repeat episode.

But you know what? So far the only thing that has gone wrong is my complete inability to charge the phones around here leaving me without a way to verbally communicate with anyone for long periods of time. Which honestly, could be a blessing for those I stalk on the phone.

Not bad…but we still have a few hours to go…wish me luck in breaking the cycle!

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This year, Mr. C became an official Cub Scout. He had been bugging us about it for a while but we have a fairly strict rule around here that you get one activity at a time because…well we just do.

So like I said, he joined Scouts which is good for him. Great group of kids, lots of learning and of course, a chance to embarass me unintentionally because no good deed goes unpunished. But he looks so damn cute in his uniform it kills me. See?

A few weeks ago, he was studying for his “Health Badge”. The Den Leader was out of town that night but his son, who is an amazing kid and an Eagle Scout, led the meeting. Since two adults need to be present at each meeting, I volunteered to stay because I hadn’t caught up with his Mom in quite a while.

I probably could have picked a better night to do that catching up.

The conversation started easy enough. The Eagle Scout reviewed all their meal plans, talked to them about how important it was to eat the right foods, nourish their bodies. He covered off on exercise and talked to them about what drugs do to your body.

Good stuff, right? Yeah, well then he got to alcohol.

Ahem.

For your entertainment, the conversation:

Eagle Scout: “How many of you have seen your parents drink alcohol?”
Troop: Collectively raises hands because we all live in the same neighborhood where we view happy hour as our God given right. All except my son who is sitting on his hands.
Eagle Scout: (Now giving side eye to my son because…well…you know.) “Really?”
Mr. C: “Is wine considered alcohol?”
Eagle Scout: “Yessss…”
Mr. C: “Because my Mom says it’s fruit juice and she drinks it every night.”
TSM: Tries to dive under kitchen counter.

Given that his Mom’s facebook page boasts this picture? The kid never had a chance.

Whatever…I maintain my position that wine should be found on the FDA Food Chart and I challenge you to prove me wrong.

PS: Just adding a little info here…the Eagle Scout I’m talking about is such an amazing kid and in no way shape or form did he pass judgment on me. He was merely following protocol…and the “Really?” remark was only because he couldn’t quite believe Mr. C had never seen me take a drink (both of our families being Catholic and all). This story was more about Mr. C outing me, and very little to do with the Eagle Scout, whom I sincerely hope my son uses as a role model!

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