Checking out the Blog Neighborhood

Recently when I was viewing my blog after updating I hit the next blog page to see who was my neighbor. She is a 20 yr old Canadian who is going through the woes of dating at least thats what I got from the quick peek of her entries. She started blogging in May of this year and from looking at her comments she is like me only getting spam comments. I don't know what the etiquette is for your neighbor in the blog hood. Do I send her a comment just to say "Hey, How are ya? I'm Jo. I blog next door to you and just wanted to introduce myself." Because whose to say that the minute I hit send that someone with a blog name thats alphabetically between us won't move in her spot and then I won't be her neighbor anymore and she'll look out her blog window to catch sight of me and it could be an 80 year old man. She'd be like "He's Mountain Mama? Yeah right who is he trying to fool!" So I guess I'll just mind my own business for now, but I will tell you this...if I hear Mountain Man moves in I'll be locking my doors and windows because who knows what kind of guy he might be. But on the other hand, the bears keep getting in our garbage at night...he might come in handy. Hhmmm...wheres that recipe for huckleberry pie.

Walk, Don't Run to the Bus

Steven has been riding the school bus for 2 weeks now. We've been enjoying our walks to the bus in the morning since it gives us our alone time to talk about things. Today the topic was his loose front tooth. He is worried he will lose it at school and won't be able to bring it home for the tooth fairy. He didn't say that, but instead asked, "Does my teacher have a baggie at school I could bring my tooth home in if it falls out?" No mention of the tooth fairy, but I know that is the major concern of his. I told him his teacher has dealt with many loose teeth and she is an expert on getting them home. He seemed relieved.
The first day I put him on the bus was harder for me than the day I took him to school for his first day. As I was walking back home, this sob just erupted from deep inside me. I walked home in a blur of tears. When I was little I hated riding the bus. I was so scared of the older kids. I don't know why since they never bothered me, I guess because they were just bigger. As I got older I didn't mind it especially since Dennis rode the bus also. Dennis was in my class, very cute and a nice guy. I wasn't brave enough to sit with Dennis, but just knowing Dennis was there was enough to make the ride bearable.
Today as Steven and I were standing waiting for the bus I had this urge to just scoop him up and take him back home with me. I don't know why for sure but it may have to do with the fact that on the days I work I don't get to see him until 2 hours before his bedtime. I miss his funny stories, goofy expressions, snuggles....I just miss him.

Turkeys, Racoons, and Bears Oh MY!

My porch has been a virtual wild kingdom of late. About two weeks ago, I had 10 turkeys pecking on my porch for crumbs of dog and cat food. The boys were able to slowly sneak to the sliding glass doors and sit to watch the turkeys up close for 5 minutes. The consensus was they are a pretty darn ugly bird, but tasty to eat. Steven offered to jump on one and bring it to me so I could it cook for dinner. I politely declined his offer and told him I would get one from the store that was already plucked. He didn't quite understand what the big deal would be about for plucking a few feathers. I on the other hand could only think of chopping the head off...shudder.
On Monday night, I walked into the livingroom to spy a doe looking through the sliding glass door. The lights were all off except the TV so I don't think she saw me standing there. She kept moving her head around as if to get a better view of the inside of the house. After a minute of watching her, I took a step forward and she stepped back a foot and looked at me with her ears down. She very slowly stepped off the porch like she was trying to act nonchalantly about being caught snooping. Made me wonder what she thought of how we live. Thursday night as I was going to turn the TV off I caught movement on the porch out of the corner of my eye. There two very plump racoons stood on hind legs looking at me through the door. It reminded me of the furniture commercial with the racoons checking out the comfy recliner and couch. They looked like they wanted to come in and kick back for awhile. Not.
Then yesterday while I was washing dishes I looked out to the yard and noticed something looked different. It finally dawned on me that it was a lack of color I was noticing. Hubster had planted marigolds around an ugly transformer to hide it somewhat and now all I was seeing were flower stems. When Hubster went out to check the damage, he found a small bear track. About 5 feet away, he found a bigger print. Oh yippee, we have a mama bear and cub around. The bears ate all the fresher blooms off and spit out any blooms that were starting to dry up. Only the best and freshest will do I suppose.

Damn..Rock Star is Over.

I have watched every episode of Rock Star this summer. Every Tues & Wed I made sure the boys were tucked into bed so they wouldn't disturb me. Hubster quickly figured out on his own to not talk to me, ask me where the whatever the hell he can't find is, initiate sex with me, walk in front of the TV or breathe too loud while I was engrossed in Rock Star. I haven't been this fanatical about a tv show since the Bionic Woman. Shut up. Bionic Woman and Six Million Dollar Man had an awesome love story undertone.
When I first started watching Rock Star I so wanted Jordis to win but I honestly couldn't picture a woman fronting INXS. Brandon literally gave me the "ick" shudders and I didn't care for his singing or style. I quietly jumped from my chair when he was sent home whispering YES! YES! that night trying not wake the boys in my ecstasy. Towards the end I went from wanting Suzie to win, then Mig, then Marty, but I knew deep down J.D. would end up winning. I have to admit watching him the last 2 weeks he is the perfect match. He was just a little too smug earlier in the show and that turned me off of him. I'll be watching for releases from Jordis, Suzie, Marty and Mig curious how far their careers will go.

It was nice to have a show for me to look forward to watching though. I scared myself a while back when I was looking for something to watch and my heart quickened when I saw Jimmy Newtron was on. I actually pushed select and started watching it when it dawned on me the boys were in bed and I could watch anything I wanted. I admit I had to force myself to find something else and Jimmy was a damn rerun at that. I made myself go to bed early that night because my second choice was Spongebob. Need more adult contact.

It sounded like they may do another Rock Star next summer. Man thats a long time from now. So I guess I'll have to find some other shows to look forward to watch. But I may have to block Nickelodeon on my remote or I may find myself waiting with baited breath to see if Jimmy and Cindy will finally realize they are meant for each other.

Open House

Tonight Steven and I attended our first open house at the Elementary school. Hubster stayed home with Dean since the poor little fellow is sick with a nasty cold. The school had a scavanger hunt where you went to each classroom and found items listed on a piece of paper. It was an excellent way of meeting all the teachers and see the classrooms. I actually went to school there first through third grade before we moved to Helena. So it was fun seeing how different the class rooms have changed. The kindergarten class rooms are in an old dormitory building with the 6th through 8th graders. Steven and I did pretty well with the scavanger hunt. Since he can't read I did the majority. At one point when we were leaving the dormitory Steven was trying to whisper something to me but I couldn't hear him because of people talking around us so I told him to wait until we went outside. Once down the steps I leaned down and asked him what he needed. Steven looked around to make sure no one too close and whispered, "Mom I had to fart when we were around people and I squeezed my butt cheeks together so hard they started to hurt." Without laughing, I asked him if he still needed to fart and he nodded yes. Still not laughing I told him "Okay we'll just walk over that way quickly and you let it out." When he nodded I could tell he was still trying very hard not to fart, so we quickly walked away from the other people. After about 10 steps I asked "Did you do it?" He nodded with a smile, "My butt feels much better now!" Still not laughing, I said "Good job honey." As we continued to walk to the main school building I had tears in my eyes from trying not to laugh. What a kid!

Life in the Gutter

On September 6th I opened the bowling alley up for a new season. I love my job. I manage a little 6 lane house and have 7 employees. Even though it may seem like a pretty easy job it has its headaches. Anybody that has been in a management position will agree that it is basically a glorified babysitting job. The bowling alley is a big part of my life and I've been trying to think how to include my job in this blog without revealing too much. I am really lucky right now as I have a very good crew who all love their job. But they don't have that love for each other. Red is a bartender who has been with me for a year now. She is a real sweetheart but on the lazy side when it comes to sidework. Navy is, as the name gives away, an ex navy gal. She is a seasoned bartender and very regimented about her work and expects the same from everyone else. Baby is a 20 yr old single mother who is good at all aspects of the job, but speaks before she thinks therefore has the potential to put customers off. The sad thing about all of them is they are desperate for money and more hours so they constantly find things to complain about so as to take shifts away from each other. To be a manager you have to balance the good and bad about people, find there strengths and weakness.
My weakness is I get too involved with my employees. I'm privy to all there problems with lovers, parents, and children. I know what keeps them awake at night and what they go home to. So I struggle to keep a balance between being a friend while being a hard nosed boss. It gets tough and stressful. The only advantage I have is I don't play games and they know I lay it on the line. Navy is my biggest problem which may seem odd because she is the best bartender and worker out of the three. But I know she can see herself in my job and feels she could do better. I'd give her the credit that yes at the bar part she may do better, but when it comes to the bowling portion I'm good. I've bowled for 20 yrs now and I know what bowlers want and I give it to them. I have good people skills which she doesn't. I may sound arrogant but I've had to step back and ask myself would she be better for the job? Should I walk away? No. Because my strenths totally out number hers. So I watch my back and do my best.
Now you know one of the things that keep me awake at night.

1st Day of School

We awoke nice and early. Steven ate his breakfast of cinnamon toast and glass of milk with the lights dimmed because the bright light hurt his sleepy eyes. I helped him take a shower and brush his teeth. Dressed him for his big day. His first day as a kindergarten. After he was dressed and shoes double knotted, I realized we still had 45 minutes until we had to leave for the school. I got Dean ready to go to Grandma's and that killed 5 minutes. First lesson learned of the school year we don't need an hour and half to get ready. Yeah, we can sleep in another half an hour tomorrow!
After we dropped Dean off, Steven and I headed to the school. We met the other little ones dressed in their brand new duds and parents with mixed emotions. I think the thing that surprised me the most was how many scared little kids were there without a parent or even somebody. In this small town, I can't imagine one business that couldn't have covered for a parent to take their child to his/her first day of school. Anyways, it broke my heart. Steven is a very social child and even he said he was nervous as we walked onto the playground. But pretty soon he was interacting with the other kids. I was a little worried about one incident that happened. He has a friend, Caleb from preschool that is in his class and they were instantly hanging out together on the playground. When we went into the classroom to get them settled in another boy came in and apparently was also friends with Caleb. The teacher told the kids to find a chair at the tables and be seated. Steven grabbed a chair and called to Caleb to come sit by him. Caleb and the other boy ran to another table and sat next to each other ignoring Steven. As the teacher began to speak, Steven kept staring at Caleb to get his attention. The teacher told us to say our goodbyes. As I leaned down to tell Steven goodbye, he asked me why Caleb didn't want to sit with him. The look in his eyes about killed me. I told him that it was no biggie, that he would see Caleb all day and be able to play with him at recess. As I drove home, I cried. I cried because my boy is growing up. I cried because I'm now having my first taste of not being able to protect my little boy from all the hurts to come his way.
I picked up Dean from Mom's and we went home to face out first day without Steven together. Dean spent many a moment laying on the floor crying for Brubber. Several times I wanted to sprawl out on the floor and join him. Finally the time came to go pick Steven up. We waited on the playground for the bell to ring. As soon as the bell rang the teacher stepped out with the kids in tow. As soon as Steven and Dean spotted each other they ran together and hugged. Major Mommy moment...aahhh! On the way home Steven told us about his day and how much fun he had with Caleb. He also told me he made new friends with 2 boys who sit at his table. I released the breath I had been holding all day. First crisis averted for now. Phew!

Katrina

I have literally been glued to Fox News. I am amazed. I am in shock. I am ashamed.
I am amazed at the devastation Katrina has brought to the Gulf Coast states. The homes literally blown away to just a foundation, peoples lives and belongings, just gone. Only roof tops showing in the flood waters in NOLA. I am in shock that in our times, our fellow Americans are suffering to such an extent when on foreign lands the good ole USA rides in on its white horse and saves the day. I am ashamed of our government, our elected officials, mainly our president. Bush you have shown your true self to us all. You have revealed to me that you are just a puppet. Without someone guiding your every word or move, you are useless. As the rest of us Americans were glued to our televisions watching helplessly this catastrophic storm approach land, your sitting on a tailgate vacationing with the good old boys. I'd like to know were you or anyone federally in contact with Mayor Nagin or any local, state official in the Gulf states? Anyone going over plans of evacuation? This whole ordeal has made me think back to when I voted for our mayor, our governor, our sheriff, what were the things that made me vote for them? I believe everyone who has voted for a local or state official votes for them on what they can do to help on an economic level. Do any of us vote truly based on the fact alone "Could this person act responsibly and quickly during a man made or natural disaster?" No we vote for the person we hope will help us keep food on our tables and keep our lifestyles in tact. I bet in the next elections, safety plans for our cities will be an issue. I know elected officials are just people like us, they just chose a career in politics. President Bush can't handle every single issue facing him, that's why he has department administrators and advisors. I understand that, what I don't understand is why he puts the people in charge of these matters in positions they are not qualified. Can we say Brownie? What the hell was Bush thinking? FEMA should have the most qualified staff and plan of attack considering we live in elevated terrorist level daily. But after listening to Barbara Bush say that these poor people of NOLA have it better at a crowded shelter than they did before the hurricane revealed what values she passed onto her son. Shut up Barbara.
The only good that came of this whole disaster? We finally got some honest reactions. Mayor Nagin, we felt the same as you. Quit your damn press conferences, get off your asses and act! Anderson Cooper, I too am disgusted with all the thanking and back patting of politicians. Why thank some fellow elected official paid from our tax dollars for coming to the site of a natural disaster? Its your fucking job and responsibility. Thank them when they get behind the wheel of a bus and drive hundreds of people to safe shelter. Thank them when they carry cases of water in the 90 degree heat for hours on end. Thank them when they place the body of the unidentified woman into a body bag. And if thats unreasonable, see who they would be thanking at that moment if it were their child and grandchildren admidst the others suffering at the convention center. Geraldo, you sometimes make me wonder how genuine your emotions are, but we felt your desperation at the convention center. On the other side of a bridge awaits food, water, and transportation to safety. Let them walk to help if help can't get to them. What the hell? No instead you station military at a blockade to keep people from reaching help.
My hope is that the next time we Americans step into a voting booth is that the emotions, the what ifs, will revisit us before we mark those ballots.

Fair Time

Once again the carnival rides and cowboys have arrived. Fair time in Montana. I've gone to our county fair for off and on 27 years now. I started going to the fair at the age 13 for the rides and games. My main objective was how many times could I ride the Zipper before I puked. (5 by the way.) As I got older the fair was more for showing off my new school clothes and shaking my Rocky Mountain clad ass in front of the football players. After high school, I would travel from Missoula to party at the fair. I only saw the rides because they were on the way to the beer garden. The demolition derby seen from my bleacher seat in the drinking section topped off the weekend. The Hubster and I got married when I was 22 and we occasionally went to the demo, but the fair was not a major attraction to us. Camping on labor day weekend was much more to our liking. The year 2000 was our first weekend camping trip with our 1 yr old son and our last. Camping with a 1 yr old + rain + sleepless nights = not fun. So the next labor day weekend rolled around and we decided to do the fair. Being Steven was only 2 yrs old, the rides he could go on were pretty limited. I had just gotten a digital camera and was very excited to take pictures of Steven at his first fair. When I got home and downloaded the pictures to my pc, I erased every single one of them. I was so devastated that I had lost those pics that Hubster took us back to the fair so I could take pictures all over again. We basically threw Steven on a ride took his pic and onto the next ride and so on and headed back home.
In 2002, Dean was 5 months old and Steven a month shy of being 3. Steven had a blast on the rides and playing games on the midway. Dean was quite satisfied watching the people and lights from his stroller. Hubster and I were simply exhausted. You know all the cables they run along the ground from ride to ride and across the midway every 5 feet? Not fun when pushing a stroller and trying to dodge running children and drunk cowboys. The next year, we wised up and invited Hubsters brother and wife to come with us. Reinforcements! You gotta love Aunties who love to go on rides with their nephews. Steven was a pro with the rides at this time and showed Dean the best places to sit on the rides. Although the teddy bear ride scared Dean and Steven spent the whole time trying to get Dean to quit crying. I was learning the best routes to take that involved the least cables. 2004, we once again wrangled Uncle and Auntie into coming with us. We had a blast. Hubster, the boys and I got our picture taken and it is the best photo of all of us I think we'll ever take. We still had the stroller with us, but more for hauling stuffed animals and diaper bag. I learned to be an aggressive stroller driver and make the unruly children and drunken cowboys step out of my way. Good memories were made that year.
Which brings us to now. No stroller since the boys are old enough to romp around for hours and not want to be carried. Dean didn't cry on any of the rides. They absolutely loved the dragon coaster. They're the two toe heads in the yellow shirts in the picture. They both won prizes on the midway throwing darts, rolling balls and fishing with magnets. We got another picture taken and it was the most awful picture we've ever taken. Oh well. Uncle and Auntie didn't come with us this time, so it was just our little family. I know our times of going to the fair as a family will only last so long and then the boys will want to go with their friends. I don't know what the future of the fair holds for Hubster and I. Who knows? It may find us attending the rodeo sitting in the bleachers in the non drinking section. Its evolution.

Cheek Flappers

I've been wondering, at what stage in life do we become embarrassed to fart in front of people. I think for girls it is quite early, 2 to 3 yrs old. I don't know. I don't remember my mom having a "beans and fluff talk" with me. Now boys it is different. Steven takes great joy in sharing his farts. I made the mistake of laughing at one of his more audible farts and said "That was quite the cheek flapper." So around here its cheek flappers. My husband at 42 will fart in front of friends of ours he feels comfortable with while I turn red with embarrassment. Now why is it that a man can fart and everyone laughs "Oh man! You're rotten! Phew!". But if a woman lets one rip? Uncomfortable pause in conversation.
With Steven starting school soon, I've been discussing with him how its not polite to fart in front of other people. I could see the wheels a turnin'. "Where will my farts go if I hold them in forever?" So I helped him plan the great gas attack. Well I said, "When you are on the playground you walk away from people and let a fartie free. And when you go the bathroom, you get as many out as possible." He seemed relieved especially when I told him once he got home he could let em rip.
All of this has made me think about all the mortification gas has brought to me. Let me take you there. I'm 16 yrs old out on a first date with a hottie. Hottie and I meet up with some friends and all hop in a car together. We drove to an isolated place to drink beer and smoke. The owner of the car had an awesome stereo system and loved his music loud. As we are sitting there drinking, laughing and rupturing our ear drums to the music, I started to feel a bubble of gas inching its way down to freedom. Now you would think with the music so loud I would just let her go. But odor cannot be drowned out by Journey no matter how loud its played. So I squeezed the butt cheeks together and forced the bubble back up. Well this happened a couple of times and I was feeling pretty proud of myself....when the bubbles joined forces and retaliated. I farted. Not out of my butt, but internally. I don't know how else to describe it. Over the loud vocalizing of David Lee Roth, this rolling sound erupted, not a quick explosion but a loooonnnnngggg drawn out rumble. I hoped no one else could hear this rebellion over the music and kept on laughing and talking. When Hottie looks at me and says, "What the hell was that?" Now me being quick minded, looked out the closed window and said "I don't know but I'm scared." I don't think he bought it because when they dropped me off at the house Hottie just said bye and never got out of the car.
Shortly after Hubster and I were married, we had just gotten to bed and I felt this pressure building. So I got up and went in the bathroom and let the beast free. The smell was tolerable but not pleasant. I returned to bed thankful I hadn't let it fluff under the sheets and fell to sleep. About an hour later, I wake up to Hubster getting out of bed to go pee and immediately feel the pressure of the beast. So I hurry up and squeezed it out. The smell. Oh the smell. I never knew my body could produce such a rank rotting stench. As I hear the toilet flush, I hurry and fluff the blankets around hoping to lighten the stench and pretend to be asleep. Hubster comes in, lays down and I hear "sniff sniff". He sits up and leans over the side of the bed. Sits up and turns on the light, "Dear I think the cat shit behind the bed!" In a groggy pretense I get up and help him look for the pile of steaming stench. After moving the bed across the room and not discovering the pile, Hubster grabs up the innocent sleeping cat from its bed, "You rotten bastard! You can sleep outside!". I never told my husband that it was me and I to this day I still do a fart odor test in the bathroom before bed because I'm scared to sleep outside.

Old Doggie

Valentines Day 1990 Hubster walked into my hair salon with this tiny bundle of fur and presented me with my new baby. We named him Griz since he sounded like a little bear when he played. About 2 weeks later Hubster broke his leg and while he was laid up Griz became his baby. I still was the one who took him out in the frigid air at 3:00 am, fed him and groomed him, but Hubster was the one who stole Griz's heart. Griz is now 15 1/2 years old.
I remember on several occasions, Hubster and I have discussed that we would never let a dog suffer due to old age. We have often judged other dog owners of how unfair it is to keep a dog alive when they can no longer get around and how selfish it is for them to do so. Well for the past 2 years Griz has been failing. It started with him having trouble getting up the porch steps and for about a year now he has been deaf. This Spring Hubster built a ramp up into the house so Griz wouldn't have to climb steps. I often use the porch light to get Griz's attention when its time to come in at night. We keep finding ways to get around Griz's disabilities. But we are finding it hard to know when to say when. He seems to be doing okay. He has a geriatric checkup yearly and always gets good results.
The thing is we are now the recipients of judgment from friends and family who think its time we put Griz down. Amazing how things come around huh? I hope that when Griz does go that it is painless and quick. I will not let him suffer if his organs start shutting down or he gets cancer. But I still feel he is still just my little old man and how can you put someone down just for being old, deaf and slow.
He is a tough old coot though. A couple of months ago, I was leaving to pickup Steven from Pre-school. I always look behind the car for Griz and did so then. I began to backup and was thinking the tires I had put on the day before sure made the car feel sluggish and then I heard a hoarse bark. I immediately stopped and thinking I had just ran into Griz I was going to go forwards, but my head said no...check where he is before you move. Thank goodness I didn't move for his head was right in front of the back tire. Griz was trying to crawl out from underneath the car. I figured I'd have to jack the car up to get him out, just as I was moving to stop the motor Griz got out on his own. As he walked away he would go a few feet and then his butt would drop to the ground. I thought for sure I had either broke his back or hips. I have never felt as helpless at that moment in my life. Thankfully my sil was within yelling distance and she helped me get him in the truck. While she drove the truck with Griz, I took my car since I had Dean in there in his car seat. All the way to the vet Dean kept asking me if Griz had a booboo. I felt awful. When we arrived at the vets, Griz was still standing in the back of the truck and seemed somewhat alright until I noticed blood dripping from under his tail. I lost it. I just knew he had internal injuries. The vet came to the truck to examine him and she carefully felt his hips, belly and then lifted his tail. I had to look away, because I was sure I would see intestines or something. Beth, our vet, said "Jo he's going to be fine. You just gave him one hell of a road rash on his butt.". To my relief, his xrays showed no breaks or internal bleeding. So we figured he must have tried to get up when I started backing up and his poor little butt was dragged for six feet in gravel. I still don't know how I didn't see him behind the car when I looked, but figure he must have been under the back of the car. He sure doesn't lay under cars now. He's old, but not dumb.
I guess at this point we will continue to love and care for him. When his time comes I hope he knows that as our first child he was very loved.

Its Fire Season

I was out working in the yard today enjoying the cooler morning temperature when all the sudden I smelled smoke. Now we live in a wooded area, so this is not a smell you want invading your nostrils. When I looked out I realized everything had an orange glow. I could no longer see the blue sky nor the mountain behind our house. After a few frantic phone calls, I found that the smoke was coming from fires about 90 miles away.



I hate this time of year. When the fire danger gets extreme the state puts restrictions on campfires, off road vehicles, smoking and such. I gladly abide by these rules because I love this land. But then you get the guy like I followed the other day, happily flicking his ashes from his cigarette out his window. I took down his license plate number just in case a fire was started. People just don't think.
Mother nature hasn't been too kind either. We have had several storms pass through, but just lightning and no rain. One thing I love about living where we do is that any given time you can step outside and take a deep breath of fresh mountain air. Now I find I step outside regularly to smell for that dreaded sign that disaster is coming.

Somebody Slap Me

I absolutely love doing home improvement and decorating projects. Hubster on the other hand does not share my enthusiasm. So I taught myself how to work with tools. I have even built a 5 foot kitchen cabinet, with 4 drawers that I was quite proud of doing. This January we moved into a new house and I love it. But of course I've had to make it mine. So I've painted the livingroom and my oldest sons bedroom. My next project is the bathroom. When I first saw the house I wasn't quite sure what to think of the bathroom. The lady who once lived here was into roses. Rose wall paper border, curtains covered in roses, even shelf liner with roses. Gah! I am not a flowery girl by any means. Put it this way, I'm getting impatient with Hubster to get his deer head bleached and mounted. Enough said. So the bathroom. She went all out with the flowers. Here, see..

This is mainly the boys bathroom, so I didn't think the flowers quite fit. This may sound stupid, but I haven't changed the decor because everyone who sees the bathroom absolutely loves the wallpaper. Heh? Now I definitely do things for me and my family only, but it got me to wondering. What was I not seeing in this wallpaper? I know people weren't just saying it, because when I tell people I'm removing it, they gasp "NO! How could you? Its beautiful!" Even men have stated its kinda cool.
So what do I do? Yup, I buy wallpaper stripper and I get started.

What the hell was I thinking? I have never loathed something as much as I HATE this wallpaper! I would rather go strolling in the grocery store naked! Okay maybe not.... Anyway you get the idea. If I were to run into the sweet little rose loving granny who lived here before me, well I...I'd make her stroll through the grocery store naked! Yeah! Strip that granny!
So I have one wall complete. I excitedly called the boys in to see what I was doing to their bathroom. Dean ran the other way thinking mean old mama was going to make him sit on the dreaded potty chair for poopy time again. Steven, my boy, Steven...looked at the wall.
Steven "Mom where are the flowers?"
Me "I'm taking the wall paper down and I'm going to paint your bathroom a really cool shade of green."
Steven (lip quivers)
Me "what's wrong honey?"
Steven "I love the flowers!"

Gah!

I Need to Grow Younger

I came upon a link for a real age test while browsing. What the heck, I've got a few minutes before the boys wake up. When I began the test I was feeling pretty good. After I got the results...well...not so good. The test revealed my real age as 52.7 years old. I'm 40. That sucks. It especially sucks since I'm a 40 yr old mother to a 3 and 5 yr old. For the last year or so, its been in the back of mind that I need to start taking care of myself better. You know exercise, lose the poundage, quit smoking, all the "I should be doing" things. While I was taking the test I was proudly checking the no boxes for diseases and symptoms thinking I'm in pretty good health. Pretty good health for someone who smokes, needs to lose 50 lbs. and doesn't take time to exercise. I think my bubble has burst.
The sad thing is that for most of my life I've desired to be a different person than I am. Maybe not different person, I like me. I know! I want a different lifestyle! Exercise, make healthy meals for the family and be smoke free. So I guess if I'm going to grow younger I need to be less lazy. Heh, makes me tired just thinking about it.
Well I think I'll take this 52 year old, oh excuse me, 52.7 yr old body and make a plan of attack. Wish me well!

Purple Fingers

Its that time again! The huckleberries are in season!


The hubster and I took the boys for their first huckleberry harvest. I've never been the bravest girl when it comes to traipsing around in the wilderness. The Hubster works in the woods, so he is totally at ease scaling up steep embankments and the sounds of the forest don't make the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. I on the other hand am afraid of heights and being a bear snack. Every year I hope we'll find a nice patch along the road. But no....the great woodsman drives by these gentle, sunny slopes and pulls off the road by the steepest, gnarliest, brushy cliffs. Now you may wonder why I don't insist we stop at the gentle slopes...well because everybody and their dog have already & have stripped the bushes bare. So I tighten the laces on my hiking boots, spray from head to toe with bug repellent, do the same for the boys and take a deep breath. I always dread the climb, but you hope the trees and rocks you're death gripping will hold so you can haul your fat ass up the hill to those juicy berries awaiting. Its pretty embarrassing when your 3 year old holds his hand out to help. But once you reach the summit, glad you didn't shit yourself, you proudly stand, turn to the mountain you just conquered and realize it was only 5 feet you scaled. Fuh! Okay so now onto the elusive purple berry. It is your goal to find a patch of berries where as you can sit your ass down in the middle and pick a bucket full. So I find my spot, settle in for some picking, take a breath of fresh mountain air, and listen to the squirrels chatter, birds sing. Ahh! Joy! And then you catch a strange odor....what is that...sniff...bear? Then the ears go on hyper drive...twig snap...oh shit...bushes rustling....you can hear your heartbeat....snort...shit was that a snort...what the..? This is the point I become chatty cathy figuring if I talk REALLY LOUD THE BEARS WILL KNOW I'M THERE AND GO TO ANOTHER PATCH. Now Hubster and kids are oblivious and are bounding from bush to bush, popping juicy berry after juicy berry into their mouths relishing the family outing. So I keep talking but after awhile you can only think of so much to say. About the 15th time I ask husband how many berries he has within 10 minutes, he answers annoyed, "About the same dear!" Okay so now what...ooh cough! Coughs will scare bears away! So eh eh cough! Cough! Cough! Then twig snap. Cough! COUGH!! Leaves rustle. Then the thought pops into my head that maybe my coughing sounds like a bruin mating call. Everyone else is having a grand old time with purple fingers, lips, tongue, not a care in the world. Light bulb! Pick really fast and you can get the hell out of the All the Bear Can Eat Buffet. So now I become militant mom. "Quit eating so many berries and fill those buckets NOW!" "Hey quit having fun and pick boy! Thankfully the moment comes when you hear, "Mom I'm cold." Yes!! Perfect. We better go, can't have the boys get chilled. So back to the truck we head. I'm feeling calmer, blood flow is slowing down..phew! Then we get to the 5 foot embankment previously scaled that now has risen to 40 feet. The Hubster and boys start down and look like bunny hill skiers..swoosh..swoosh..Wheeee! Me. I sit on my ass and slide. Brilliant heh? Not. Theres rocks in them there banks. Once down at the bottom, I brush the dust and fir needles off and hop merrily into the truck. As we're heading down the mountain, the boys are slowly drifting off to sleep, the Hubster looks handsome with orangish glow from the sunset shining upon his face. I look out at the passing scenery, miles upon miles of trees, cute little bunnies hopping across the road, and I take one last deep breath of fresh mountain air. I reach over and grab Hubsters hand and say, "I can hardly wait until next year to do this again."

Life without Brubber

Dean calls Steven brother except it comes out Brubber. This is how nicknames begin. Though I don't think Steven will want to be called Brubber for much longer once he starts school. When Dean was born, Hubster called his brother to tell him we had another boy and told him we named him Dean. Well bil misunderstood and thought we had named him Bean. And although he thought this was a strange name to give a child proceeded to call friends and family to help pass the good news of Bean's birth. Dean gets called Bean quite often. So we have Bean and Brubber. Two brothers who spend every waking hour together. They play, they fight, they conspire, they build, they fight, they kiss each others boo-boos, and oh..they fight. But in a month, these days will change. Brubber will be having new adventures, with new friends. I'm looking forward to my one on one time with Dean. But I'm afraid little Dean will be quite lost once Brubber starts school. It makes me teary eyed now to think about it. Maybe I'm wrong and Dean will relish his own time to build or play what he wants without Steven's leading ways. It could be my deep desire that these two boys of mine will always have an unbreakable bond and I don't want it weakened by 8 hours of separation and new friends. Gah! Parenting hurts sometimes! I also know I want my boys to grow to be confident individuals, so maybe the steps have begun and I better follow in stride.

It'll Be Okay

In less than a month, my 5 yr. old Steven will be starting Kindergarten. Steven is so excited and ready to go...myself not so ready. I feel like this is the point when my little boy will cease to be mine and mine alone. I'm afraid the hugs and kisses given so freely now won't be so cool anymore. Maybe its just that I'm afraid Mom won't be needed as much. Thats a hard pill to swallow. But swallow I will and smile as it slowly goes down. A couple of years ago, the school district decided to have Kindergarten classes go full days, five days a week. There is an option for partial days, but Steven is an intelligent, social, busy boy who will thrive on the full days. Many of the kids in the past years have come out of kindergarten reading. I am so excited for Steven to start reading. I sit and read to the boys quite often. Currently we are reading the Little House on The Praire book series. I lived and breathed LHOP when I was little, hell I even wanted to change my name to Laura when I was in the 4th grade. I gave up after a week of haughtily reminding teachers, friends, and family, "My name is Laura!!" Just wasn't worth the hassle. Lately Steven has been sitting down with Dean and reading to him. It makes me laugh since Dean being the 3yr. old he is, he doesn't exactly sit still and listen.
School will be good for Steven to get around kids his own age. The Hubster and I are constantly having to remind him he is a child not an equal. Of course Hubster and I sometimes disagree on appropriate activities for a 5 yr. old. We are a big snowmobile freaks, so naturally the boys have been on them since they could sit up on their own. They have their own helmets and gear. The other day, Steven comes in all excited and asks me for his helmet. Sometimes Steven will wear his helmet on his bicycle and tries out his latest constructed jumps which usually consists of maybe a 3" jump. So I give him his helmet and went back to making dinner. Suddenly I hear a motor....what the hell....and when I look out I see this.

Now had I known exactly what was going on I would have insisted on long pants and shirt. He did great and was a very excited & proud little boy. I can tell you I was a very relieved Mom when that mini bike was loaded back into our friends truck and taken back to his home. My heart isn't ready.

First Date Jitters

Darn if I don't feel like I'm going on a first date with the football captain. Does my butt look good in these jeans? Is my breath okay? Underarm wetness? Well I'm going to jump in and if this "date" goes well it could turn out to be a long lasting relationship.
My main reason for starting this blog is for my boys. Everyday something is said or done by these two goofballs and I tell myself to remember it and write in their scrap books. Well life happens and my memory sucks. My life will undoubtedly slip in as, yes I am a mom with a life. I hope as this blog goes on I'll be able to watch myself grow as well as the boys. At this time I'm not sure how open I'll be with my writing. I read a lot of online journals and sometimes I'm in awe of how much people reveal to the world. In my own little realm I try to keep my thoughts to myself and not reveal tidbits to people that may come back and "tidbit" me in the ass. Basically I have trust issues.

So here I am.