Community Musical Performance

Wow, I'm getting good at this now. This is last June. Stinkerbelle was singing with her preschool class in a community musical commemorating the city's 100th anniversary. Their number was about the railroad arriving in town. Stinkerbelle is one of the kids in a red bandanna.

My son, the enforcer

Gees, my son is rough when he plays soccer. I think of him as the enforcer. He LOVES playing indoor, where it is often like a hockey game with the boarding. As physical as this boy is, he'll be great at football. He's No. 1, in case you didn't know.

Base Hit

Well, I haven't figured out how to get the video to be up the right way. Apparently, I shot this with the camera sideways ... it is better if you turn the volume down because you can hear the wind blowing on the microphone.

Hot Rod's coach doesn't have my mad coach pitch skillz, so he can't be as selective with his choices when it comes to swinging. Worst part is that we had finally gotten him to be selective when swinging. *sigh* It is going to be a long season.

God is a Cowboys fan

Ok, despite Jerry Jones making this horrid Papa John's commercial, God is a Cowboys fan. Growing up Southern Baptist in the suburbs of Fort Worth-Dallas, every Sunday when the Cowboys played, the pastor ended services at 11:45. Otherwise, you heard every man's alarm on their wristwatch beeping to let him know he was running long. Pastors who didn't end on time on Sundays didn't last long at our church. I had to laugh today when I was dropping the kids off at CCD (I'm Catholic now) and the priest had ended mass early today. I was wondering if the 11:15 mass will end early, too. The Cowboys do play at noon. Go 'Boys!

Granny, PaPa and the .410, Oh My!

Today, we took the kids out to see my grandparents at their place in the boonies. As a bonus, my dad offered to let Hot Rod shoot his .410. Of course, my military-obsessed son jumped on the opportunity. Without any hearing protection, we had to improvise and grab the DVD headphones from the minivan. Great fun ensued as he plunked an RC Cola can while his grandparents and baby sister looked on.

After his last shot, he was learning how to eject the empty shell. If you look closely, you can see the red shell popping up toward dad.

Little Bit fell while playing the fun game of "ringing and running" at the front door. So, she scraped her arm pretty good. Granny "doctored" it up with some Neosporin and a bandage. Band-Aids cure anything with my children.

Here is a very satisfied Stinkerbelle after getting her Granny love.

And, smooches for the boy, too. The very morbid part of me wanted the kids to spend some time with my folks today. Mom goes to the hospital on Wednesday for a heart catheter (and likely angioplasty or stent). I'm planning on staying with her and I'm a nervous wreck. This has been a wretched week, emotionally, for me. On top of it all - I started, so I'm hormonal, too. And, just for fun, I have two stories due on Oct. 9 and NONE of my sources have returned calls or emails. I will be out on Wednesday and Thursday to take care of my mom ... so, that makes it all the more challenging. Add mom to the prayers, too, please.

DisneyWorld Trivia

Disney sells 50 million soft drinks annually;
194,871 miles of toilet paper are used per year;
Disney buses travel nearly 18 million miles annually;
the number of trees, shrubs, and flowers exceeds 7 million;
daily water usage runs 15 million gallons;
turf mowing miles equals 18 trips around the Earth at the equator each year;
Disney’s wardrobe has more than 1.5 million costumes in use;
730,102 gallons of bleach are used annually;
and Disney employs approximately 55,000 Cast Members.

Wow.

My heart is filled with sadness

It has been a long busy day, but finally during Pickle's karate classes tonight at 8 p.m., I opened up the local newspaper. On page 3 was a headline about a 2-year-old who drowned in a backyard pool. I immediately think "how sad."

Then, I read the name and felt a giant pit in my stomach. The child - Gavin - is the grandson of one of my baseball moms from the spring. She was also one of Pickle's teachers at the middle school. She is raising Gavin. Or was, I guess.

My heart just aches so much for her. We're not good friends, but we talk. While the boys were playing baseball together, we'd occasionally talk on the phone and we've chatted over email since the season ended. We hung out some at Pickle's field trip last spring. In June, when the hail storm struck during the baseball game, she was the dugout mom who, along with her husband, had their arms wrapped around Stinkerbelle to keep her safe.

I just wish I could wrap my arms around her now and shield her from the pain, but I know that nothing will replace that hole in her heart. I hope God's peace can fill her soul. I can't seem to quit crying. I just keep thinking about her telling me how much she hated her swimming pool and now I can't imagine how she'll ever be able to walk into her own back yard without being tormented by the image of the firefighters diving to retrieve his lifeless body. God help her.

This is also a lesson to my children in life and death. Little Bit kept asking if he would come back. She played with Gavin on the sidelines of the baseball games sometimes. I'm not sure if she remembers him, but she would know him if he showed up. As I was explaining his death to the kids after karate, Little Bit asked if he went to live with Jesus. Yes, I told her. Jesus takes all the little children to heaven with him. Hot Rod isn't quite sure what to make of it. I don't think he really understands. Thank God, we've never lost anyone. I lost my grandparents when he was an infant, so he has no concept of loss. We talked about what happens at a funeral. He made a card for his friend. His teammate was probably with Gavin when he disappeared. The story I read in the paper this evening said he was playing with a group of kids when my friend realized he was missing. Pickle made a card for my friend. He wrote that he was sorry it happened, but that Gavin is in a happy place now with Pickle's aunt and his dog. He drew a picture of little Gavin as an angel with Pickle's Aunt Debbie and Cricket and Jesus. So, he has a pretty good grasp of things.

I think the kids aren't sure what to think about all of mommy's tears, but I've hugged them and repeated just how much I love them. I also took the opportunity to reiterate to Hot Rod exactly why I'm so hyper vigilant around water when I have the kids. This summer, he was really mad because I made him wear a life jacket when we went to the beach. Maybe this will help him understand a bit better. Sorry for the stream of consciousness writing. I just can't seem to form a simple coherent thought right now.

Please pray for Gavin's family.

Help 'em Obi Wan, You're His Only Hope

More dorky Star Wars kid. This time as Princess Leia. I can't help it, this stuff is funny. I don't care who you are.

Feeling White and Nerdy

Listening to the Weird Al CD that Uzz burned for Pickle and while feeling very white and nerdy, I thought about the original white nerd: the Star Wars kid. Enjoy.

Damn paparazzi

No more photos, please. Can't you see that I'm trying to enjoy my brother's baseball game with my little dog in peace?

Target in site

Military action figures abound in the Army of Mom household these days. Hot Rod is totally into Army men and G.I. Joe right now. We have our World Peacekeepers action figure guys that are the biggest hit right now. Gotta love Big Lots and its bargains. I sense Santa is going to get a few more peacekeepers for the boy this Christmas. It is funny, everywhere around the house, you see recon or snipers in place. In the damnedest places - like the tissue box.

Wow, sexy assistant voice

While working on a story regarding a new office tower planned for downtown Oakland, Calif., I called one of the big executive dudes and got his voicemail:

*in very sultry sex kitten voice*
Hi, you have reached the voicemail of *generic suit name here*. He is unavailable right now *because he is boinking the sultry voice assistant, I'm thinking*. Please leave a message at the tone.

*fanning self*

I sort of feel dirty after listening to that voicemail recording. Maybe that gal moonlights as a porn actress. Don't they make those in California?

Aom and the Seven Dwarves

When taking Pickle for his annual exam at the doctor's office last week, one of the nurses had scrubs that featured Grumpy. Somehow, Pickle and I got on the subject of what our dwarf names would be. Without missing a beat, he told me I'd be Droopy.

*sigh*

Ok, I know there is no Droopy, but it was even funnier because I don't think he got the true humor in calling me Droopy. :)

Later, we all decided that AoD would be Grumpy (although with his allergies lately, he could compete for Sneezy); Hot Rod is Sneezy, because of his allergies; Stinkerbelle is Happy; and Pickle is Sleepy.

Me? I'm stuck with Droopy, I think.

Pet peeves

So, the other day I'm turning right at a red light. This intersection has a wide shoulder, so it is the norm to pull onto the shoulder and out of the lanes going straight to make the right turn after stopping and checking that it is clear. So, I do this. Apparently, there was a car in the lane who wanted to turn right and was waiting in the lane to go straight and took great offense to my audacity at turning right before them. *shrug* So, when the light to go straight turned green, she whipped through the intersection and got right on my bumper. She stayed there and at the next light, whips around me and shoots me the finger. No. 1, I really don't like that. I might cuss like a sailor, but shooting the bird is just really juvenile and trashy, IMHO, especially when you're doing it in front of children (which mine were in the car). But, to make it even more heinous, the gal had one of those religious fish symbols on the back of her car. Way to go lady. You just made all Christians look like giant douchebag hypocrites.

Also, just a tip to both genders - it is NOT appealing to smell your cologne/perfume from 30 feet away. It is almost as offensive as smelling B.O. It is. Trust me. When your aroma is so strong that my eyes water, it is not sexy. It is gross. Sort of like that one commercial with the hot chick in it - it is sexy when I can smell you while giving you a hug. Not so sexy when it is overpowering.

Crow fajitas, crow pot pie, crow casserole

I'm still eating crow - for my fear of Tony Romo at the helm of my beloved Cowboys. But, I've come to develop a taste for crow and enjoy it. I need to add a crow side dish, too, on behalf of T.O.

I loves me some Tony Romo, T.O. and Nick Folk!!!! I call Nick my lil punkin. :)

*cross your fingers that the good play continues*

Eso Vaqueros de Dallas!!!!

Is it just me?

I have a confession. I'm finally determined to write a book. So, I've been going to writer's meetings, reading writer magazines and outlining book possibilities. I'm paying attention to what people say about how to find an agent, publisher, etc. I've also been paying attention to other people's writing.

I had the great privilege of hearing one of the best writing coaches out there, Paula LaRocque, last week. One of her tips included NOT writing run-on sentences. Keep them short and concise. Only occasionally do you want a long drawn out sentence and only one written very well that says something.

So, I'm reading a supposed humor column titled "This Writer's Life" about some dude who wants to write a novel. The intro to the sentence that makes me want to claw my eyes out explains that the writer has read about writing a novel and has set clear goals and expectations for his work. Then, he goes into this sentence:

All I want is a well-written, three-dimensional-character-filled, drama-thick, tension-heavy, hilarious, thought-provoking, insightful, bestselling commentary on the human condition and small liberal arts colleges that forces people to ask questions of themselves and of society and not shun delicate issues and people wearing zip-off cargo pants.

Ok, first point: I get the humor in the first 25 words. Clever and amusing. He loses me on the second half of the run-on sentence. I simply don't understand it. Do you? Am I missing some wonderfully insightful humor here?

Wouldn't it be more palatable in bites?
All I want is a well-written, three-dimensional-character-filled, drama-thick, tension-heavy, hilarious, thought-provoking, insightful, bestselling commentary on the human condition. I want small liberal arts colleges that force people to ask questions of themselves and of society and not shun delicate issues.

I have no clue what he is saying about zip-off cargo pants. Is he saying he wants colleges not to shun people who wear them? He wants people who wear them? I mean, it doesn't make sense. What troubles me most is that this column appears in a magazine for writers and people aspiring to be writers. Is it wrong to anyone else?

Happy Weasel Stomping Day

Just because it seems like a wonderful holiday every Sept. 23. Put your viking helmet on, grab your boots and stomp your cares away.

Go Wildcats

We had the unfortunate feeling that Hot Rod's baseball team would really stink this year and, alas, we were right. His first game on Thursday night resulted in the team getting run-ruled 12-2. Hot Rod only got two at-bats. He played first most of the game and pitcher for one or two innings. He just has no help around him in the field and it is really sad to watch and even harder for him to deal with. We had the Bad News Bears last spring and they looked bad, but did really well finishing third in the season. He isn't accustomed to losing and losing badly. So, it is hard for him.

He had a great hit to centerfield his first at-bat, then struggled the second time. He may be struggling a bit not playing for mom and dad. AoD is the assistant coach, but it isn't the same. Plus, mom is just a spectator this season. That is hard for ME!

He didn't get past first, which was pretty discouraging, too. Hopefully these little guys will get better. Maybe today ... right? One can hope. At least he looks really good in that shade of blue. :)

Three roses

A very sexually active woman tells her plastic surgeon that she wants her vaginal lips reduced in size because they are loose and flapping. Out of embarrassment, she insisted that the surgery be kept a secret and the surgeon agreed.

Awakening from the anesthesia after the surgery, she found three roses on her nightstand.

Outraged, she called the doctor. "I thought I asked you not to tell anyone about my operation!" He told her that he carried out her wishes for confidentiality and that the first rose was from him because he felt bad that she went through the procedure and recovery alone.

The second rose, he explained, is from his nurse because she empathized after having the same procedure herself.

"And the third rose," the woman asked.

"It is from a man upstairs in the burn unit," the doctor said. "He wanted to thank you for his new ears."

Tales of the uterus

Nothing like starting off the day being light-sabered (as my friend and editor referred to it). I can honestly say that this was one of the few times with lube, a condom and an electronic device being inserted into my vagina by another person was not fun. I mean, come on, it has all the ingredients to sound like a good time, right?

But, alas, Nurse Ratchett was not going to allow this to be fun. With a bedside manner described best as stoic, the tech was all business and wanded me with apparent great finesse and before I knew it, she was leaving a rose on the nightstand, smoking a cig and telling me to get my fat ass dressed so she could take care of the next gal.

Let me say, though, that sitting in a waiting room full of women who are 8 months pregnant when it is 92 degrees outside remind me why I had my tubes tied. Oh good grief. These poor waddling women fanning themselves with Parenting magazine made me smile and thank God that I won't be doing that again any time soon.

TMI, but I went to my annual a week or two ago and apparently my answers to the doctor's questions revealed that I suffer from Menorrhagia. You think its gross? Imagine being me. So, anyway. This has been going on for about a year, maybe more. But, I didn't know that it was anything but my lack of good luck that I was dealing with it.

So, doc sends me in for the wanding. He speculated that it could be anything from a polyp to fibroids to Adenomyosis. So, Nurse Ratchett found a polyp. According to the MayoClinic, they are small, benign growths on the lining of the uterine wall, which may cause heavy or prolonged menstrual bleeding. Polyps of the uterus most commonly occur in women of reproductive age as the result of high hormone levels. *I'm guessing the high hormone levels explain my erratic mood swings, huh?* The Adenomyosis occurs when glands from the endometrium become embedded in the uterine muscle, often causing heavy bleeding and pain. Adenomyosis is most likely to develop if you're a middle-aged woman who has had many children, according to the MayoClinic. I guess three counts for middle. I also read that if you've had c-sections, it can be a contributor to this, as well.

So, the solution is to have a D and C (dilation and curettage). The doctor opens (dilates) the cervix and then scrapes or suctions tissue from the lining of the uterus to reduce menstrual bleeding. Although this procedure is common and often treats menorrhagia successfully, additional D and C procedures may be needed if menorrhagia recurs. Doesn't this sound like fun? While he's in there, we'll do an dndometrial ablation, too. Using ultrasonic energy, the doctor permanently destroys the entire lining of the uterus (endometrium). After endometrial ablation, most women have normal menstrual flow. However, some women have little or no menstrual flow after the procedure. The doctor said a hysterectomy is the only way to "cure" the problem, but since I'm a good 15 years from menopause, that really isn't an option we want. So, this may be the next best thing.

But, the busy gal that I am, I've asked to put this off till the new year. Not only will the timing, perhaps, be better, but if I've got to meet a $1000 deductible, why not do it when I can benefit from it for the rest of the year. Doc said that seemed fine.

I would like to hear any stories anyone has about their procedures. I know one reader said she wasn't happy with hers. My friend, Kelvinator, had it done and loves life ever since with barely a cycle each month.

The world is full of stupid people

The blog post title is in reference to some lyrics from a Refreshments song, but it is a true enough phrase as supported by the article here. Click on it for readable size text. After trying to describe accurately the horror of the infamous "bwallah" article and failing miserably, I went on a quest to find a copy online. Lo and behold, I found it and here it is for your viewing pleasure. Ok, viewing torment. So, go look for yourself and I hope your head doesn't explode like mine did. Voila, lady. If you're going to be all trite and stuff in your writing, at least spell the shit right. Voila. Voi effing la.

But, I digress.

The world is full of stupid people, but even beyond the idiots, there are dumb criminals and simply evil individuals. The dumb people bother me because they are shallowing out the gene pool for my children.

On the list of douchebaggery of the highest order is the "don't taze me, bro" douchebag down in Florida.

Then, we have this asshole who kidnapped a 14-year-old girl and held her captive for 10 days, raping her repeatedly. Thank God she is clever. Asshole let her play games on his cellphone and she texted her mom where she was.

The inexcusable sadism of this couple who kept five children and two adults locked in a basement for years to collect the state-paid stipend for their "care."

The psycho mom who set her three daughters on fire burns me up (sorry for the bad pun) maybe more than the rest. These are three children that she conceived, carried and cared for daily. How? I just can't fathom it. I have a hard time disciplining my children when they need it. I can't imagine the life ahead of those two children who lived. The youngest child perished.

Ok, back to stupid. Douchebag extraordinaire stuck a live rattlesnake in his mouth to impress his girlfriend. Needless to say, the snake bit him and almost killed him. I wonder if the gal is still is girlfriend? I'm thinking if you are THAT stupid, I'm out the door once I drop you off at the ER and stop laughing long enough to tell them what you did. Oddly enough, I think I know some fellas who may be this dude's inspiration.

Granny Gone Wild

Last night, I received a phone call from my irate mother. She had just hung up on a telemarketer who was trying to get her to OK a Girls Gone Wild DVD sale to her credit card. Apparently, she could get the first one for one cent and the rest for $19.95 per month with no minimum to purchase.

*ROFLMAO*

My 68-year-old mother, who I'm sure only had sex twice when my brother and I were conceived (and I don't say that casually, this woman is NOTHING like me in the libido department and complains about anything related to sex).

She ranted on and on about how she didn't want that trash and how the telemarketer guy (bless his heart, another "Iranian" according to mom) couldn't fathom that she didn't want to get this delightful DVD series.

I'm going to giggle for a while at the mental image of my mom giving this poor guy the what for on trying to send her that "trash" and how her mailbox would "catch on fire if that trash were put in it." Those are quotes, by the way.

Going where few men have gone before

Ok, that may be stretching it some *gees, bad pun in there* ewww, another bad pun.

*shaking my head*

I'm going to the vagina whisperer (term coined by ArmyWife ToddlerMom) in the morning. I have an ultrasound - possibly vaginal ultrasound - to sniff around *ick, bad visual image* for fibroids or polyps.

Doesn't that sound like fun? I know you're jealous. On top of it all, it makes me feel old. When the doctor says "things like this are common for women your age" it just doesn't make you feel like a hot young chickee anymore. *sigh* As if having a teenager now didn't kill it for me already, I've reached the "women your age" comment.

So, I get poked around and rubbed with gel - that makes it sound like way more fun that it will be - and then I'll see my doctor immediately afterwards with his take on what the tech saw. So, from there, we'll figure out what to do. His office was trying to schedule an ablation for next week when I told them WHOA, back that bus up. Let's wait and see what the damn test says first, mmm kay?

Unless I'm filled up with tumors - which is highly unlikely - I'm not doing anything until next year. Let's make meeting that deductible worthwhile.

Living up to measurements

A man and his wife were working in their garden one day when the man looked over at his wife and said "Your butt is getting really big. I mean REALLY big. I bet your butt is bigger than the barbecue!"


With that, he proceeded to get a measuring tape and measured the grill and then went over to measure his wife's butt.


"Yeah, I was right. Your butt is two inches wider than the barbecue," he tells her.


The woman chose to ignore her husband.


Later that night in bed, the husband is getting frisky and makes sexual advances toward his wife, who totally brushes him off.


"What's wrong?" he asks.


"Do you really think I'm going to fire up this big-ass grill for one little weenie?" she replied.

Arrr, me matey

Today is the annual "Talk like a pirate day", a day when we pay homage to the hot pirates like Capn. Jack Sparrow *swooning* and the swashbuckling Steve the Pirate from Dodgeball. :) We can even tribute our favorite pirate bloggers, El Capitan and Cashin.

We can look back at my pirate children and dream of getting AoM's booty. :) I have a lot of one kind, but not the other. *hee hee*

Bud - weis - er

Cutie patootey Kasey Kahne will be at the wheel of the new come the Budweiser car for the 2008 Nascar Nextel Cup Series. Oops, make that the Sprint Cup Series. Lots of changes in store for next year.

I dunno. It is going to be hard for me to picture that sweet face swilling Bud for commercials. I picture him as more of a Sam Adams kind of guy. Maybe Fat Tire. But, not Bud. Jr? He was a Bud kind of guy.

Making my brain hurt

A local magazine that is mailed out to city residents included a story in this month's issue about Labor Day.

In the story - I honestly remember very litte about it except this point - the writer of the story (and she's the magazine's editor) uses the word "bwallah."

Swear to God, bwallah.

I went back and read the story again. I think she meant to use the word, voila.

It just makes my brain hurt to think that a magazine editor could foul up like that. Bwallah.

Good God. I need some Tylenol now.

Little Bit

I feel totally remiss that I never posted pictures of Little Bit playing soccer this summer in the indoor league. She had such a good time that I reckon she'll do it again next summer if the church does it. Heck, I might even let her try to city's indoor league this spring. We'll see. She had a great time. She especially liked playing defense and was pretty good at it. Of course, she was almost always the smallest kid on the court, but she didn't back down!

Beware the cute overload

Mickey Mouse's pumpkin head is too cute. Going to Disney World a few days before Halloween is going to be a blast!

Finally, soccer starts for Hot Rod

More than a year after he played his last soccer game, Hot Rod finally got to play again on Sunday. We are playing 4 on 4 indoor, so it is very fast paced. He did great. The lighting was pretty crummy in there and my little point and shoot just couldn't do justice to the quickness of my little guy, so no action shots. :( But, I thought this was a cute group picture.

C'mon N Ride The Train

When I worked at DFW International Airport, I was on the media relations team promoting the new Skylink automated people mover (fancy name for train). Every time we talked about this in meetings, my boss would start singing this song and we would all start dancing. I heard the song on the radio Saturday night and just started giggling at the thought of all these public relations professionals dancing in this tiny office to the Quad City DJs.

I'm just a dolphin, ma'am

Candygram.

Sneaky snakes

One of my least favorite critters in the world is the snake. I don't like any of them. They bother me and I used to have nightmares about them as a kid. So, as fate would have it, my middle child thinks snakes are the coolest critters on the planet. So, we make an effort to take him to do snakey things. Last month, a hunter's extravaganza featured a rattlesnake pit. Hot Rod and his baby sister were in heaven.

It is weird how they flatten down.

This fella is showing the snake fangs. He said he's been bit numerous times.

This is a view of a snake I never want to see. Ick.

And, this guy delighted in screwing around with the snakes and pissing them off. I asked him how often he is bitten and he said dozens. He is now allergic to the anti-venom and has to have surgeries when he is bitten. And, he still downs a beer while he is screwing around with the snakes.

He would walk around and kick the snakes, so they would rattle. Little Bit asked me why he was being mean to the snakes. I told her he does it for entertainment and to make money. Does seem sort of sad.

Again, messing around with the snakes.

Here is Hot Rod petting a rattlesnake. You can see Army of Dad and Little Bit checking out some other snakes in the background. This snake handler took great pleasure in making me squeal when I reached to touch the snake (even Hot Rod was scared to do it at first, so I said I'd do it). This guy jerked the snake when I touched it and I jumped and almost peed my pants. He laughed.

Sweet Little Bit touching the tail. The number of rattles do not tell how old the snake is, but actually indicate how many times the snake has shed its skin, the handlers said.

Hot Rod coming back for seconds.

And, at the Heard Museum in McKinney in July. They had a travelling snake exhibit that the kids really enjoyed.

This hog nosed snake kept puffing up and striking toward Hot Rod. He thought that was cool.

Come aboard

With each passing day, I get even more excited about our Disney trip. We are now just 42 days away from the trip. Forty-freaking-two days!!!! I'm dying.

So, I'm also getting anxious. My wonderful sister-in-law made all the arrangements because she is giving us her frequent flyer miles to pay for our flights and she is booking a 3-bedroom suite at one of the Disney resorts for the whole clan to stay in. We are even getting a lift to the resort from the Orlando airport via the Magical Express. This bus not only takes us to the resort, but they will claim our baggage for us and take it to our rooms. How is that for cool? I did read on some blogs that it doesn't always seem so magical because it is not always express, but it is free and the kids should be pretty freaking happy to just be on the trip and riding the Mickey Mouse bus. We'll see how well that works.

Stinkerbelle will not only be making her first flight, but she'll get to ride a bus, too! Both the boys have flown in small aircraft a few years back, but this will be Hot Rod's first commercial flight and Pickle's first that he'll remember. He flew about a half-dozen times before he was a 1-year-old. This will be my first flight since 1995. Yeah, you read that right. I haven't been on a place in more than 12 years. I'm sort of nervous to take my entire family on a plane trip, but I figure I'll do lots of preparation for how to take a terrorist out with my bare hands and a tube of lipstick, if I have to.

But, I digress. I found several informative sites about the Magical Express (and Disney trips, in general) including the Laughing Place as well as some XE dude's blog, and a trip planner, too. It is all pretty cool. Of course, I should be cleaning my house. But, this is much more fun! I also am trying to pass the time till the AC repairman comes to replace our fan motor. *sigh* There goes some of my spending money.

Last of the anime posts

Ok, I'm scared, but here I am with the giant roll of TP called the Sensei Toilet Paper Roll. *shrug* Your guess is as good as mine. I thought it was a marshmallow at first, but if you look at its "hands" there are sheets of toilet paper there. I mean, this could be helpful for when there is a massive case of diarrhea going on in the home.

And, we are letting loose our inner dorks. Her as Kon from Bleach and me as Sonic X.

Who ya gonna call? Ghostbusters.

Me and some of the kids. Is it just me or do I look young in this picture? Maybe I should wear the dorky Sonic hat all the time. No? Ok.

My best pal with the kids. I think they know that she rocks, which she does. Goofy hat and all.

Me in the dude's fairy wings .. they make a heart shape around that big butt.

And, of course, me with fairy wings.

Me and the hot pleather girl. Just goes to show that all dorks aren't completely dorky. *wink*

And, a boob shirt that I contemplated getting. Read it, then add Amen. :)

A hit with the babes, ok, the anime babes

I dunno. Something funny about the Naruto doll wearing Pickle's Sonic hat to me. I actually did this while the kids were out having fun.

The keyblade thing is from Disney's anime combo with Disney characters called Kingdom Hearts. I actually like this one and knowing that Disney did it, because you know it won't be as racy as some anime stuff can be. Pickle and the keyblade gals were a hit.

This cutie is portraying some gal from Naruto. At least my boy has some decent taste. :) Now, the fun comes when I post all the pictures of me being goofy at Anime Fest. You expect it from the kids. Ok, yeah, you expect it from me, too. I admit it.

Disney trivia

Everything in our household lately has been Disney inspired. The kids are either going to figure out what mom is doing or they're going to think I'm torturing them with it. For instance, we have been watching Leroy and Stitch in the car. Last night, we caught part of a Travel Channel show about Disney and we plan to watch it again tonight, in whole, at 6 p.m.

I've purchased a Disney secrets online book to help me learn some other tidbits, as well. Thanks to Trixie for her advice in some comments in another post.

And, I get a Disney online newsletter regularly. It had a little piece of trivia that I didn't know.

Question: What did EPCOT originally stand for?

Answer: Experimental Prototype Community of Tomorrow

See, now you know.

Every girl who was a teen in the late 80s ...

Wanted John Cusack to ask her out. We all wanted a guy to do this for us ... be a jerk (they all did that anyway) and then love us so much that he'd pull up his hoopty outsid our house and blare Peter Gabriel's "In your eyes" from his boombox. *sigh* Makes me long for those days of young love when the feelings are fresh and new and exciting. I have to say, though, that movie-made men aren't real. They don't exist. They are there for romance novels and to create unrealistic expectations for men for us women. Ok, enough of that. I love this movie. 1989. Wow. Seems like a long time ago.

The perfect wife

Men everywhere will understand. Women everywhere .... well, they'll roll their eyes. :)

Happy 13th Birthday Kiddo!

Happy 13th to my peculiar, unusual, talented and sweet eldest child. It is hard to believe he is a teenager now. He still has his little boy ways, which I welcome with open arms. He is at that awkward stage when he still wants to be a little kid, but likes to ogle the girls and draw his anime babes with big cans. Yet, he still wants to wear the goofy Sonic hat and carry a keyblade. Go figure.

Here he is in our hotel room at the Hyatt Regency with the Dallas skyline behind him. It was a great way to celebrate his birthday with him a few weeks early.

I enjoy seeing him grow, mature and become a young man. I love you, honey. Happy birthday. I hope it is everything you want and more.

Call me

Tonight, on my way to a training meeting my mom called and asked me to make her an appointment with my hairstylist. I just so happen to have his number programmed into my cell phone and it got me to thinking about all the various numbers I have programmed. Weird.

Sister-in-law
Handyman
The mom of Little Bit's best friend
Friend from high school
Party friend
Ex-boyfriend from high school/college
Babysitter
Soccer coach
Academy director for soccer club
Neighbor from two houses down
Party Friend
Friend from high school
Husband of party friend
Banker
My dad
Hot Rod's teacher
Pediatric dentist
Pharmacist/mom of one of Little Bit's friends
Cousin
Aunt
Pediatric endocrinologist
Pediatrician
Army of Dad's doctor
My gynecologist
One of my editors
Babysitter
My doctor
Gadfly
Elementary School
Home
Army of Dad
LabKat's husband
My ex-husband/Pickle's dad/Uzz
Editor- business colleague
Party friend
LabKat
Hairdresser
Friend - colleague
Friend from high school
Sister of a soccer mom friend of mine
Soccer mom friend
LaLa - friend from high school - cruise buddy
Friend from high school
Next door neighbor
Mother in law
Assistant soccer coach from last summer
Ex-mother in law/Pickle's grandmother
My mom
Party Friend
Sister-in-law
Soccer mom friend of mine
Friend from high school
Friend - colleague
Editor
Former sister-in-law
Husband of party friend
Army of Dad's best friend
Preschool
Insurance agent
Former editor
Middle school
Pickle's teacher
Editor
Friend from high school
Old friend
Brother
Mom and dad's neighbor across the street
Best friend
Editor
Voicemail
Pickle's former teacher

Useless nuggets

My 4-year-old daughter can't say Darth Vader. She calls him Darth Mater (like Tow Mater from Cars).

My mother thinks any person of Middle Eastern origin is Iranian. It doesn't matter where they are from, what they look like, nice or evil, they're all Iranians. It is quite the joke in my family. She also can't say library. She says libary.

My two little ones are having allergy issues. We put the cool-mist humidifier in the room of the worst off child and the vaporizer in the other room. Last night, my 8-year-old asked if I could put the pacifier in his room.

I used to think Fatboy Slim was saying "the funk's so rubber" rather than the actual lyrics of " Funk Soul Brother. Listen, see if you can tell the difference.

I love this song and have to turn it up really loud and roll the windows down every time I hear it. Sort of scares me, but I like a Tupac song. I changed the words for Little Bit and sang "Stinkerbelle knows how to potty. In the bathroom, bathroom of mommy ... Stinkerbelle knows how to potty."

It is going to cost my family of five $694 to buy tickets to Disney World for two days. Swear to the Good Lord Above. I used to get comps because I worked at a newspaper, so I had no idea how much tickets cost. Gees Louise ... I may need to put up a "will write for food" sign in downtown Dallas.

Marking Six Years

I honestly dread this day every year. Sept. 11. I mean, I can't even talk about this date to anyone without the memories all rushing to the forefront of my mind. All the things that happened that day and the immediate days after. My son's 7th birthday was marred by being the day after the worst terrorist attack on American soil.

I was disappointed when I opened up the local daily newspaper and there was not one single mention of the anniversary of 9/11 on the front page. Not even a one-inch American flag awith a blurb about it on the side of the of page. Nothing. Not a damn thing. Come on, people. And, the media wonders why there is such hostility toward them. Either they don't give a damn about their country and one of the most important days in its history or they simply want us to forget about it. I refuse to forget. 3,000 of my fellow Americans of all walks of life, ethnicities and religions in the melting pot of America were brutally killed that day.

A mother and daughter died together on a flight bound for California to visit Disney Land. A woman lost the father to her unborn child. Many children lost moms and dads. Mothers and fathers lost their only children.

And for what? The sick satisfaction of some assholes that they killed Americans. Did they have a point? I really don't think so. They're jealous that we live in the greatest country in the world. They're mad because we're arrogant. Yeah, we are. I really don't care if you're offended by us. Don't let the door smack your ass on the way out. Do what I tell my children when they don't like the way someone acts - but there is nothing they can do about it - simply ignore them. I don't understand how killing innocent people makes a point. I really don't.

My dear Hot Rod has finally gotten the visions of the burning towers out of his little 8-year-old mind. Watching the news this morning, he asked what was on fire in the news spot. I reminded him about the bad men flying the airplanes into the buildings and I could see the flicker of remembrance in his eyes. He was a little more than 2 when it happened and it was awful to watch this toddler terrified whenever he saw an airplane. At an airshow in October 2001, he saw an American Airlines jet and pointed to it, telling me it was just like the one that flew into the building. Good God, he paid close enough attention to the news coverage while I held him and cried in September 2001. It never dawned on me that he'd get it. But, he did.

I don't want to let my anger go. I want it to burn inside me and remind me to be vigilant. I don't want this to ever happen on American soil again. I'll be damned if I will let it happen when I can do something to prevent it. I used to think my husband and my best friend's husband were paranoid about the possibility that America could ever be attacked or invaded and that we'd have to defend ourselves. Never in our lifetime, I thought. But, after 9/11, I am no longer that Polyanna who feels invincible. We're not. I'm not. And, I will fight tooth and nail to preserve the life that I have worked so hard to have for my family. Yeah, the prissy little soccer mom is ready to pick a gun, a hammer, a knife - whatever it takes - to defend our freedom. Think of me as a little hobbit fighting the orcs in LOTR. Don't understimate a pissed off over protective mom.

Don't forget what happened on Sept. 11, 2001. I won't.

A bit of Army of Mom 9/11 archives:
2004 post
2005 post
2006 post

Lucky 13

As my sweet Pickle approaches his 13th birthday Wednesday, he got a walk down Memory Lane a few weeks ago with his dad. Uzz took the boy to his original hometown. Yep, Pickle and Uzz travelled to the land of nasty water, tumbleweeds, stinky petroleum farms, dirt devils and the only place I know where it rains mud: Midland.

It is pretty cute. He visited the hospital where he was born, his first apartment home (oddly enough - numbered 1313), where he was baptized and where mom worked. I actually miss Midland, if you can believe it.

Doctor's appointments

One night, as a couple was going to bed, the husband starts rubbing his wife's arm and getting romantic.

The wife turns over and says "I'm sorry honey, I have a gynecologist's appointment in the morning and I'd like to be fresh."

The husband, rejected, turns over.

A few minutes later, he rolls back over and taps his wife.

"Do you have a dentist's appointment, too?

*Irony abounds here. I had my gyno appointment today and I need to make a dental appointment. LOL

Arr. I've come for the booty!

I like pirates. Arrr. Maybe that caption would be better for Army of Dad. :)

Bloody hell

As Ron Weasley would say.

Went to have my annual female plumbing inspection this morning. Doc suspects uterine polyps may be causing some of my misery, so I go back next week for a sonogram and follow up appointment.

He has talked about ablation as a remedy to the situation, but wants to check for the polyps and possible fibroids first. I dunno. It would be nice to be free of the 7-day-plus monthly visitor, but I'm so tired of having medical procedures done.

Although, maybe this maintenance check is an upgrade, so Army of Dad won't be trading me in for a newer model. He's already been window shopping, I suspect. :)

LabKat is going to kill me

Sometimes I crack myself up. LabKat loves wookies, so what better way to immortalize her. Plus, I can openly publicize that she will be 40 in just 25 days.

Is this funny or what?

Cutey patootie

How cute is this boy? Dimples and that smile ... I like the ears, too. I won't even go into why. *evin grin* I couldn't find any pics of the very cute Bradie James to add ... but Romo is pretty good on his own.

No. 9 is surely becoming my favorite number. We have Kasey Kahne, for instance. Then, my very witty comment about putting a 6 in front of that 9. *wink, wink, nudge, nudge*

Comedic resemblance

Does anyone else see a resemblance between Bob Newhart and Wade Phillips? I mean, the comedy may be apparent. First set of downs, the flipping sorry-ass Giants have taken the lead on the Cowboys. *sigh* This is going to be a long season.

I am mama, hear me roar!

Woo hoo. I love it when I can fix things. We are having a birthday party for Pickle tomorrow at the house. Therefore, I am frantically running around trying to get everything ready for the party. Our trampoline - which is a favorite among the children and their guests - had seven broken springs. Some were happening from age and wear and tear. Others were plucked off when Pickle realized if he jumped at them a certain way, they go boinging off into the yard. I'm sure it was great fun until his little brother told on him. Argh. So, now, knowing that several kids will be springing around on it, it needs to be repaired. So, I got upholstery thread and needles and a big old metal thimble and I fixed five of the seven. I need to head back to the hardware store to see if I can get some canvas and metal triangle thingees to repair the last two. I was pretty impressed I had as many pieces as I did for the repairs.

The two little ones helped me clean the back yard. We got to see all sorts of cool little creatures and some not so cool. We put the amdro out for the nasty little ants to eat and I stumbled upon a black widow under a bucket near my compost pile. She is dead now, too, as is her buddy the hornet, who had built a dirt nest on my back porch. A sweet little frog was happily scampering in the herb garden. I'm guessing the light watering I did probably helped with his happiness. But, I was very proud of the kids. They swept, raked, bagged up the gunk and pulled weeds.

Now, I'm off to the hardware store to buy some spraypaint and see if they have stuff for me to rig the trampoline for the last two parts that need to be repaired. Then, I'm off to the fabric store to see about something to recover our patio chairs (that is what the paint is for, too) they're wrought iron (I think) with a back and seat that need to be covered.

I still have to clean the bathrooms, pick up the family room and front room and clear out some clutter. ACK!

Enough blogging ... back to work. Oh yeah, I look great today *note the sarcasm* with my bandana over my head, an oversized shirt and shorts and my sneakers. Hold yourselves back, guys. I'm sure I smell good, too. *sigh* That bath tonight will be a great reward for a hard day's work!

Dorks Illustrated

You know, I learn something new all the time, like glomping, for instance. This big dude has the "glomp me!!" sign on his back. I did not know what glomping was and I was a big scared of the images that came to mind. Apparently, this is an anime fan thing. Glomping is to run up and hug very intensely. Lots of people walked around with signs that read 'hug me' or 'glomp me' around the fest. *shrug* I hugged a few kids along the way in the name of research. Then, I learned about the dork mating ritual.

My friend and I were fascinated watching the anime festers listening to these techno-sounding songs and all doing the same dance. I likened it to the goober version of a line dance because they were all doing the same moves. Finally, my friend asked some dude next to us what they were doing. He said it is called Para Para Paradise. Hmmm, ok. If you want to learn a routine, you can. I entertained the kids with us by doing my best Steve Irwin voice and doing a voice-over: Watch the mating ritual of the dorks. See how they move and sway to attract a potential mate. It is beautiful, isn't it?
Then, the gay Link in the fireman's pants. He put a sticky note on our Twink that said "Ima gonna eat u." It sort of freaked our dude out a bit.

Then, the dork train got going in the lobby. It was really pretty funny to see. Not sure who the dude in the yellow tie is, but he had a cameraman with him and was taping the things.

This guy made the Caption This page earlier this week. I saw him in three different women's costumes over the course of the couple of days I was there. Sunday, he was sporting thigh-highs.

I have no clue what this is supposed to be. My guess is a Naruto-Hulk-Guitar Hero, but I'm not sure.

Silent Bob was there. No Jay to be seen. His shirt said he would talk for kisses. He tried to get some Japanese girls to take him up on the offer, but they cringed and walked away. I was sort of hurt he didn't try it on me. Ok, on second thought, maybe I should be glad. :)

The chick superheroes reminded me of Electra Woman and Dyna Girl. Remember that show?

And this one is another that baffles me. My best guess is a rabid Clifford who got a bad perm and then went on a shopping spree with his sword. *shrug* I've got even more, people. Anime Fest is good for blog fodder. Thing is, there were sooooo many more opportunities and I didn't even cash in on all of them!