Happy (late) Birthday

I never had the chance to sit down and write out a Happy Birthday for my husband earlier this week- when his birthday actually was.

I married a great guy. I knew that much when I was 16 yrs old. I didn't marry him when I was 16, that's when I met him. And that's when I knew he was a great guy. I didn't, however, know that he'd be a great husband and father. He is. Lucky break, huh?

Seriously though, I'd rather not be serious today. I have written serious posts about him in the past and I am sure I will again so I would rather today be silly. Mostly because we are silly about 98% of the time. That's our policy.

So some of the silly reasons that I am so happy to have Casey as my husband-

He totally goes with me when I am on some weird "what if" tangent- like when I say wouldn't it be weird if no one could smell anything? like that wasn't even one of our senses? what would happen? He doesn't stare at me blankly. He goes there. He'd say something like yeah, there wouldn't even be trash pick-up because no one would care if it smelled because there would be no such thing. I love that.

He pretends to care about stuff that no man has ever cared about. For instance, I recently completely organized our pantry. The pantry has food it in, that's all a man needs to know, right? He was totally complementary about the whole thing even though I know he couldn't care less.

He gets my sense of humor and loves to be silly. He lets me watch Talledega Nights repeatedly and laughs with me. He plays Lego Star Wars on the Wii with Duncan for hours. He doesn't gripe when we have pancakes for dinner. Or frozen pizza. Or sandwiches. He doesn't gripe about dinner at all.

He goes just as nuts with the Crazy Cumby Birthday Parties as I do. He pretends it's all me, but really he's totally into it. He made 4ft tall hand-painted, plywood dinosaurs for Duncan's 4th birthday. Don't really need to say more, do I?

He was completely onboard with my most recent purchase for our house. A doorbell. We had no doorbell for the first couple of months of living here. I had finally had enough and went online to find one. I located something called an iChime. This is an amazing doorbell. You can download stuff from your iPod to play when your doorbell rings. He loves it as much as I do. That actually makes me love him more. Twisted, huh? Know what our doorbell sings when you ring it? I love this, but it wasn't my idea. It was Caroline's. And it's perfect, at least for our twisted sense of humor. It sings the theme song from Welcome Back Kotter. When you ring our doorbell you hear " Welcome Back" Sweet, huh?

When I called him at work, on a very busy morning to tell him it was National Talk Like a Pirate Day- what was his reaction? He laughed out loud and said the most sincere I Love You ever.

What's the song say? Everybody's crazy so whatcha gonna do, you need to find somebody crazy like you I did. And I couldn't be happier.

On a bit more serious note, he does way more than he has to. Doesn't gripe about doing it. Never, ever complains about all that the care of a child with a physical disability entails. He has an almost fierce protectiveness for our daughter. He understands the importance of giving our children strong roots. And he is giving them a future, too. He believes in me. And also in our children. And perhaps most importantly in himself.

Happy (late) Birthday my love! You are simply the best.

Bad Timing

Is there some unwritten rule of the universe that says your children will only leave their lunch in your car on days when you are wearing no make-up, have wacked out hair and yoga pants on?

Here's the story- I would love to report here that every morning when I leave my house at exactly 7:35 A.M. that I am a picture of beauty and elegance. My hair is perfectly styled and I am dressed in matching clothes that have been ironed. My breath doesn't smell of coffee and my eyes do not appear puffy because my make-up has been expertly applied. Let's pretend that is true, it isn't but pretend anyway.

Now, pretend that this day is the exact opposite of what I just described. I have my reasons, people. First of all, my husband is out of town on business. I hate business. Second, I have a sinus infection which may actually kill me sometime this week. Third, I slept a total of about 2 1/2 hrs. last night.

So, before leaving the house- at sometime after 7:35 A.M.- this morning, I did brush my hair and put on clean clothes. That's about the best I can say for my appearance at the present time. Don't worry, I am ashamed.

So, why is this the morning when I need to speak to a 2nd grade teacher friend about a Taylor Swift CD (really, you don't want to know)? Also, I run into another friend in the hallway of the 2nd grade. Then Duncan's teacher wants to chat. And then I realize that my 4th grader left her lunch in the car. I would love to go home, shower, put on nice clothes and make-up and then deliver the lunch to school. Today, of all days, that's not happening. Field trip. Leaving at 9. Gotta take lunch right now. No less than 3 people I know in the office when I walk in and because it's field trip day no one is sure which class she is in and I have to go peek into all 3 of her classrooms before I find her.

So officially about half of Hill Billy Ville saw me in all my glory this morning. Had this all taken place yesterday I would have been in matching clothes (the ironing was a little questionable) with make-up and my hair had had some quality time with the flat iron. Ugh, thanks alot universe.

Tuesday Night

So this week wrapped up another season of Angel League. Actually, now it's called All Star League. But that's not the point.

The point is this- because of our son's physical disability we were able to witness incredible things we would otherwise miss.

I'm sure, if Dunk was "normal" then I would do my token charity work and bitch about it the whole time no doubt. And, I would miss it.

God knew better.

So, Tuesday night the select baseball team made up of Duncan's peers came out to cheer him on in their team jerseys. They ran along side him and high-fived him when he crossed homeplate. They posed for pictures with him and joked with him. They brought him a team cap & photo and an autographed game ball. They made him an honorary member of their team.

More than any of that, though. They treat him like a regular kid. They are to be commended for their character. Even more, their parents should be for teaching them well.

I wanted to thank them. I felt so grateful. Yet, I struggled with words. I found it difficult to say more than, "thank you so much". Maybe you've not noticed but I don't struggle with words. My husband filled in beautifully as he always does.

After we left I asked him why I had such a struggle. His answer was quick and simple. And right on the money. He said this- if you thank them for treating him like a regular kid, you're admitting he isn't and you want him to be.

Yes, well, I do. I want him to be a real member of their baseball team. I want it for him and I want it for me too. And I know that's selfish. It's also true. I don't want to watch my husband miss out on all the father son experiences he dreamed of having with his son. I don't want to watch my son watch from the sidelines.

And yet, I know we're all better people because of it. Such an odd feeling. Knowing it's right. Knowing it's okay. And still, sometimes it just stinks.

And then there are nights like Tuesday night. Tuesday night was a blessing. Tuesday night is what keeps us going when we're in a really crappy place. Tuesday night gets us through the hospital visits and durable medical equipment bills. Tuesday night gets us through tears cried silently in the closet and those cried together as a family. Tuesday night reminds us that God has a lot of good people on his side out here in Hill Billy Ville.

I'm not going to mention the boys by name because I don't have their parents permission to do so. I'll just say thanks to the Texan baseball team and share a few pics.

Black Sheep

You ever feel like the black sheep? You know the square peg that's supposed to fit in the round hole? That's me, I think.

Let's not even go into that Baptist box I so do not fit into. I can't even begin to express the feelings I have about that here. We could start by saying that I just do not believe that Jesus Christ, who turned the water into wine, has an issue with me having a glass at dinner.

I don't feel compelled to force my children into reaching their AR goals. I do not believe that homework helps them learn anything. I am convinced that video games aren't hurting them. And the word butt? We use it regularly.

I don't feel the same as alot of moms today. I don't think my children's lives will be enhanced by sleeping in my bed . I do believe their lives will be enhanced by knowing (and learning to respect) that I share my bed with their father.

I have $12 dollars in my purse right now. Not a cent of that is inside my wallet.

I don't eat beans. At all. Ever. Amen.

No. Not any kind of beans- be they lima or green or ranch style or refried. I don't want them, thank you very much.

I gave up Diet Coke because it's bad for you. Now, I drink Dr. Pepper.

I have a bizarre fascination with polygamy. I cannot seem to wrap my brain around the women who embrace this concept. I do realize that many women are forced into this way of life and are not given a choice. My fascination is with the ones who choose it. I have a few really great friends who I love like sisters. They sleep with my husband and that's over. You know what I mean?

I have a compulsion to both save and spend money. All depends on how much Estrogen is flowing through the bloodstream at that particular time.

I love pretty shoes yet about 98% of the time I wear $2 flip-flops from Old Navy.

Walgreens is kind-of like my own personal cocaine.

I hate attending sporting events. Even when they involve my children.


I once tried to get my husband to pass me off as his mistress at a company Christmas party. He wouldn't do it. I thought it would have been hilarious.

Even though I love writing my blog, it's often the very last thing on my "to do" list.

I have several cabinets filled with scrapbooking supplies. I don't scrapbook. Well, sometimes I do but only digitally. On the computer. Where you have no need for scrapbook supplies.

I hope my husband doesn't read that.

I bought myself cereal to eat for breakfast because it's healthy. This morning I had a small bottle of Coke and 100 calorie pack of cookies for breakfast. Because I don't like cereal. Once on vacation we had to eat cereal everyday in the hotel room. We had milk kept "cold" in a cooler. It wasn't cold anymore after the 2nd day. I've never liked cereal again.

I also have a strong aversion to eating any kind of food in a hotel room. Ever watch Dateline?

Also on a vacation we had the same kind of sandwiches for 7 days straight, stopping at rest stops to "picnic". Guess whose kids get Mc Donald's 3 times a day on vacation if they want?

Now when my family picnics we take "real" food. I have been known to go a bit overboard. But I am sure you would have never guessed that about me.

Dadgum

I had to go to the Wal-Mart a few days ago. I still hate going to the Wal-Mart but sometimes it's unavoidable. Like when you need seven dowel rods because you get a crazy idea. I'll have to fill you in on that later.

So, I'm at the Wal-Mart and I am in the check-out lane for like 3 years or something like that. Why did they build 783 check-out lanes if they were only going to use 3 of them? Seriously, talk about wasting our Earth's resources. Thanks Wally World. And don't even get me started on those "Self Checkouts". You know how that makes me feel? Like Big Wal-Mart Executives are up on the second floor behind that one way mirror and they are laughing and mocking us.

"Ha, ha. We stock crap that no one should buy, gradually increase the price of all of it, never, ever help you find the crap you need, and now we don't even take the time to take your money from you. Ha, ha, ha (in an evil Clown-gone-crazy kind of laugh)"

OKay, got that off my chest. Back on track. So, I am waiting in the check-out lane. And I am bored because I am that juvenile, that I need to be entertained all the time. I guess I am not alone because the Wal-Mart had TV's installed at every single check-out lane. Probably should have thought thru that one a little and realized if people had time to catch a sitcom while waiting to pay for their stuff then maybe the answer would have been a couple more cashiers- but I digress.

So, as I am in line I am checking out all the extra stuff I have no need for but might want and I come across a package of Cherry Tic Tacs, ummm yummy! Right? But they were $1.99 and get this, sugar-free. I don't want no stinkin' sugar-free Tic Tacs. But on a serious note- I have become such a ridiculous tightwad that I would not purchase the $2 Tic Tacs. So, I compromise and buy a package of Orbitz Pomegranate Chewing Gum. Which was less than a dollar.

I bought some Orbitz Mojito gum not too long ago. Mojitos are the best drink ever. And on the plus side, I can make them. I have tried to learn to make Chocolate Martinis for several years and I don't know what my problem is, but I cannot do it. Mojitos, I have mastered. Mojito Gum, on the other hand, was the nastiest stuff ever invented. I do not know why I thought it would be good. It is not good, stay away from the Mojito gum.

So, I leave the Wal-Mart with my pomegranate gum. Later that day as I drove to get the kiddos I remembered the gum I bought and I grabbed a piece. No words for it people. Stay away from the pomegranate gum. Yuck. So I throw the rest of the pack back in my purse. And, no, I have no idea why I did that. But the next morning we get in the car to head to school. Caroline notes that car has a strawberry-air-freshener-smell. And that's exactly what it smelled like. Very, very strong strawberry-cardboard-on-a-string-air-freshener. From the gum.

That gum was so strong that it had "airfreshened" my whole car.

Stay away from the pomegranate gum.