House Rules

Noah added another one to the house rules: Don't ever ever ever put your underwear in the oven.

Typically when Noah comes up with these one liners it's because he's already tried the event. Don't hang from ropes your brother is hanging over the banister. Don't throw brother's wallet out the window. Don't put stuff in your hair unless mama is with you... there's a really long list of shenanigans. This time though... I think he's trying to be proactive. I suppose he's growing up... Noah at 18 months... letting me know what he has in store for his future solo adventures behind closed doors.

Yeah... that smile on his face is equal to a full belly for that dog.

Another rule... it's ok if mom washes your muddy flip flops off in the sink. It doesn't work the same for light up, Velcro Spiderman shoes.

Do we ride our bike wearing our Batman cape? Nooooo.

But... all the trouble. All the rules. All the peed pants, clean ups, emergency shoe replacements, and crisis searches for cape saving wrenches... it's of course worth it when he tromps in the door with a "Disney" (odd mis-pronunciation of Dandelion don't you think?...).

This Lovely Book

I don't have an e-reader, tablet or any of that snappy stuff just yet. I'm even ipod free- but I have itunes on my Ruby Red laptop.

As an adult a horrible, horrible, horrible habit has overcome me. And I don't know why. But I read books and forget them almost immediately. Or I start one that I'm not 'into' and then I feel so guilty for not giving it a chance that I hang onto it and keep dragging it the places I drag books and then don't read it. This can go on for MONTHS. The book dragging. Consequently, the bulk of my reading is a frenzied smattering of online garble.

But I think- I think I'm hooked again on luscious paper and the words that roll off of it. Where you skip over words or events you don't recognize instead of googling and getting space cadeted off onto 17 other things.

I just finished Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold- which I actually LIKED and it still took me an idiotic amount of time to finish. And that's with 2 business trips in there which usually means a good hundred or more pages per flight leg (seems like you can't get anywhere out of SeaTac airport without it being a 3+ hour flight!).

But... at the recommendation/insistence/persistence of a co-worker who IM'd a link from Amazon for a book he claims to have read 15 times, I have a new book. I bought it at the University Bookstore in the Mill Creek Towncenter and got me a 745 page novel on the softest paper I have ever touched. The book was somehow considered used so it's 745 pages only broke me of $7.99 and it is in perfect, mint condition without a single dog ear. I'm so distracted by how nice the book feels to the touch that I have barely gotten past the prologue. I'm afraid to crease the spine. It's ridiculous.

It also makes me happy that I didn't read this sucker on an e-reader because I would have never made this inordinant touch connection with the book.

It's Winter's Tale by Mark Helprin.

I can't wait to read it. Because it's a good, real, actual book! Hope the story matches... and from what I've googled... it should be!

-Sheryl

I'll Play Too

I'm home with a fever and sore throat courtesy of my favorite co-worker passing it around. Which makes for a perfect use of time to answer Jill's quiz:

Where is your cell phone?
FLOOR

Spouse?
DON'TASKMETHIS

Your hair?
SLEPT-ON

Your mother?
CRACKSMEUP

Your father?
MICHIGAN

Your favorite thing?
LITTLEBOYS

Your dream last night?
NOTHING!

Your favorite drink?
MILKSHAKE

Where are you now ?
BED

Your hobby?
KIDS!

Your fear?
THEFREAKINGGIANTHAIRYNORTHWESTSPIDERS!

Where do you want to be in 6 years?
STILLHERE

Something I'm not
PATIENT

Muffins?
BANANANUT

Wish list item?
BANANANUT

Last thing you did?
EDITED

What are you wearing?
PAJAMAS

TV?
BRAVO!

Your pets?
NONE:(

Friends?
WONDERFUL!

Your life?
AWESOME

Your mood?
CRANKY

Missing someone?
MIKE

Drinking?
CRANGRAPE

Your car?
VAN (me too!)

Something you're not wearing?
SHOES (me too!)

Your favorite store?
PIERONE

Your favorite color?
RED

When is the last time you cried?
30MINUTESAGO

Where do you go over and over?
Interstate5North

My favorite place to eat?
GOODCHINESE

Place I'd like to be right now?
WALKINGWITHKATTIEANDJILL!

The one word thing wasn't working for me. I tried.
-Sheryl

Word Up

My Sister-in-Law emailed me this quiz. I heart this kind of stuff so I decided to post it here. And she begged me to so......here it is. The object is to answer with only one word.



Where is your cell phone?
POCKET

Spouse?
BABE-A-LICIOUS

Your hair?
WET

Your mother?
ROCKS

Your father?
COOL

Your favorite thing?
BABIES

Your dream last night?
ZIPPO

Your favorite drink?
COFFEE

Where are you now ?
HOME

Your hobby?
FACEBOOK

Your fear?
FELINES

Where do you want to be in 6 years?
HERE

Something I'm not
SKINNY

Muffins?
BAGELS

Wish list item?
MONEY

Last thing you did?
DROVE

What are you wearing?
CAPRIS

TV?
OVER-ABUNDANCE

Your pets?
LOUD

Friends?
AMAZING

Your life?
AWESOME

Your mood?
GOOD

Missing someone?
PUFFMASTER

Drinking?
COFFEE

Your car?
VAN

Something you're not wearing?
SHOES

Your favorite store?
TARGET

Your favorite color?
LOTS

When is the last time you cried?
TUESDAY

Where do you go over and over?
SCHOOLS

My favorite place to eat?
HOME

Place I'd like to be right now?
SPA


In case you were wondering, Puffmaster is one of my nicknames for Alex. He is the boy with a zillion names. But thats a post for a different day.

~Jill

I'm being stalked

I am not a fan of felines. Actually, I'm a bit scared of them. I haven't always been, but somewhere along the way in adulthood, they started spooking me. The phobia kind of snuck up on me, kinda like cats do in their sneaky,catty way. I'm not scared of all cats. I'm good with kittens. A kitten could come up to me and do that purring rub against your leg thing that cats do, and I wouldn't run screaming from the room. I can handle seeing a cat from across the street. Basically, if it isn't close enough to pounce on me and gouge out my eyeballs, I'm good.

Here's what i'm not good with. A stalker cat. A big, black, yellowy green eyed stalker cat. I am pretty sure I saw this particular cat at the vet last week while I was there with More Annoying Dog. It was safely behind the bars of his little cage, but he was eyeballing me and licking his chops. I'm pretty sure it wanted me for lunch. A few days later I was walking past my front door, which happens to have a huge window panel in it. Guess who was sitting there STARING INTO MY HOUSE???? A big, black, yellowy green eyed cat. I swear it looked just like the one from the vet. And who was on my porch in a pouncing position waiting for me when I got home from taking Alex to school yesterday? That's right. Stalker Cat.

My friend Joanna has a black cat with scary green snake eyes. As a kitten she was tiny and cute. Now she reminds me of a smallish puma that would, if given the opportunity, use my skin as a scratch pad. Ironically, her name is Gracie, same as my precious baby nugget. A few weeks ago I had to drop something off at their house when nobody was there. I opened the door and Gracie the cat jumped off the ledge, probably trying to pounce me, but I think I startled her with my screaming and running. I also peed my pants a little, which was no good. This is what cats do to me. Make me so scared I pee my pants. There is probably a name for this condition in the professional world, like tryptocataphobia or something.

Cats are creepy with their sneaky, catty ways. For all I know, Gracie the cat was amused by my screaming pee episode and called out for cat reinforcements to come to the hood so she could watch this happen over and over. She's probably sitting in her bay window laughing at me right now.

I have to take More Annoying Dog back the the vet again today. If Stalker Cat is there, i'm getting a restraining order.

~Jill

Small Successes

After posting the blog address to Jill's wall on Saturday morning, there were over 160 hits for the day.

There was also a prompt call from Jill at 6:54am Pacific time on Saturday cussing me out for posting it. I mean she was a little bit hollering at a kid to be getting ready for something or another too. But the other part had her cussing at me and saying OH MY GOD a whole lot. And the way she can convert my name into totally different syllables depending on what level of OH MY GOD she is at. SHAROOOOLLLL was the most frequent version applied during our conversation. And eventually she got to the OH MY GOD giggling though. Eventually.

The thing I think I miss the most about Jill is seeing her laugh. Not hearing, but seeing her. When she starts laughing uncontrollably and then starts crying because she can't stop laughing.

That giggle showing up whether she is sad, mad or happy has been the same forever though. Really.
-Sheryl

It Isn't Raining Today

It does rain alot in Seattle. But when it's beautiful... it's really, really beautiful. This pic is from tonight, from an impromptu trip to the beach that is about 15 minutes from where we live.

-Sheryl

Rain,Rain go away, come back NEVER

Guess what rainy days are full of? Insane drivers, wildy hyper children, cranky mamas and wet shoes. I hope it's sunny tomorrow.
~Jill

Things I Love......

1) When Annoying Dog jumps on the couch full of newly folded clothes, ferociously wrastling a toy, and messes everything up.

2) When it starts raining mid-baseball practice, so 2 sweaty, smelly & now muddy tweenie boppers invade my car.

3) listening to my 2 older children fight over the most inane things for the 500 millionth time.

4) Scraping dried strawberry baby droppings off the dining room floor.

5) listening to More Annoying Dog scratch inscesintly at the floor because she wants food or water or to go outside or to just be super annoying. Hence the name More Annoying Dog.


Obviously, I don't really love these things. Sarcasm seems to be my thing today, so i'm just rolling with that.

~Jill

False Alarm

The burning smell was a lightbulb smoldering a lampshade that was knocked whackadoodle by Mr. Noah. Naturally.

Saved again.

-Sheryl

Close Calls

I had a major presentation this week at work. I realized the pair of black pants that I needed to wear was in the laundry because I had gone straight from work to Joshua's baseball game... so those suckers were filthy. I opened the laundry room door and was bowled over with smoke and a burning smell. My head sometimes screws with me so I went to ask Al if he smelled the smell and he said yes. But. That's all he did- he just kept washing dishes. I bolted back in the kitchen to ask him to come LOOK at the smelly smoke coming out of the laundry room.

Yep. Something was hosed up with the dryer and it wasn't going to be running any time soon. Now I needed some place that would have pants for me. It was 8pm. We were out of juice boxes and milk too so the emergency store trip wasn't too out of line with the needs of the moment. But seriously- this was a mammoth sized presentation to the most senior of any level of anyone I've ever pitched to and I didn't want to be screwing this up. But knowing my life events are typically stamped with some degree of nonsense, a burning dryer was minimal and something I could work around.

I got pants. I presented. Issues averted.

But then I was at Joshua's baseball game and late, late into a long game, he was waiting for his turn to bat and turned around holding up a bloody, bloody hand. Not a little bit of blood, but a-what-the-hell amount. I started screeching for him to come to me- he was furthest away in the dug out amongst a pile of boys who were just done with sitting still. I was definitely worried about his hand but- it was also crossing my mind that he needed to keep his hand 30 feet from his white jersey shirt because he still had a game tomorrow morning and I still don't have a dryer... my priorities were a touch idiotic but it had been a long week.

It turns out he had a tiny skin rip that was aggravated by screwing around with a mitt for 5 innings. But he also simultaneously had a freak bloody nose that was adding to the blood output volume.

It was so ridiculous. But again another close call for the week.

This morning took the cake however. Noah was begging me to get up and get him breakfast but then decided he needed to watch at least one Caillou cartoon before heading downstairs. I grabbed my blackberry while he was watching and I was deciding if I had any pants to wear (I have a dryer now... just need to execute the laundry part...). There was a 6:40am missed call... from my mom.

I had to be out of close calls for the week. I already imagined what it was- she was locked in her bathroom again or she was feeling strange and was on the verge of a heart attack and wanted me to tell her what to do from 2000 miles away and I missed the call or she was laying in a gutter and made a single, miserable call to her daughter for help and I missed it.

I sit up hardly breathing and dial as fast as I can on the blasted phone trying not to alarm Noah from his Caillou watching pose. And then somebody answers that doesn't sound like my mom so I start deciding that I'm right, she is hurt and a friend of hers has her phone while they are evaluating her in the ER. I'm hoping that she has chosen to go to Genesys instead of Hurley and I am already estimating flight costs... And then... she says something else making it clear that THIS IS my mother, she's just on a walk up a hill and is out of breath.

And she had dialed the wrong number. Which is a problem when it is an East Coast vs. West Coast thing because the time zone blows everything to hell and will strike a vast amount of confusion from unsuspecting daughters.

Yet another close call is averted.

Not sure if I should just beg for the shoe to drop that feels like it is dropping or if I should be glad it's Sunday and that means that karma is starting over and I'm done with close calls for a good long while...

However. As I SIT HERE TYPING, I'm smelling a burning smell.
-Sheryl

One of the best mom's I know gave this to me...

Thank you Jill...

My Mama

Jill worked with my mom at Meijers and I worked for hers at the Ferndale library when we were teenagers. There was an interesting dynamic. We weren't even the closest of friends by this point. And for that matter, my mom and I had probably stopped really talking like humans long before the blisters of teen angst. We wouldn't really start talking again until my 20's.

And to top it off... my mother would much rather have had Jill for a daughter around that time than me. I mean she loved me because I was her kid, but if she was about to be struck down for not telling the truth, she would have had to fess up that she wanted Jill. The kid she was still taller than. The kid that was kind and chatty with her. That's the one my mom wanted. I don't blame her- I wouldn't have wanted me back then either.

My mom and I have not had a classic 'sisterly' relationship or even a love/hate relationship. I don't even call her mom much- I call her Nana like my children. I have needed her when I didn't want her. She cleaned the vomit up when I barfed over geometry exams and hovered over me when I drove myself into stress induced mono as a senior in high school. She sent me $20 and "here you go" notes written on the back of receipts from the grocery store when I was a freshman in college. It was really hard to say I Love You then. We just didn't.

She went to college after 50. COLLEGE. This woman who feared even pronouncing my elementary school spelling lists (because I was DARN sure to correct her) decided she was going to go to college and she graduated. She made me cry when she walked in her cap and gown that day. Nobody makes me cry like that.

When I lived nearby in Michigan she showed up during every pinch I had and holy crap there was a lot. She inadvertently provided the comic relief that I needed for my life to roll on. Like getting her first cell phone under the premise that it was for emergencies only. She called me out of a client meeting because chicken was on sale at Meijers and did I want her to bring me any. She blows through brakes on her car every other year but she drove my sorry self around when my driving privileges were revoked multiple times for health problems.

She puts up with my sarcasm and my exasperation with her 'Nana-ness'. She spoiled her oldest grandson with Thomas trains and introducing him to the term bull shit. But she stood by graciously with the complications of Noah's premature birth and persistent health problems that made him scream when most people so much as looked at his tiny blond headed self. Yes looked at him. She was well versed in what it was like to want to pick up and hug the cutest thing on the planet but to have that little thing want nothing to do with you.

She has needed me way more than mom's want to need their children. She doesn't hate me for it.

I have needed her when I want no one and she knows it. She steps in quietly and steps back out when I've brushed myself off.

Happy Mother's Day Mom.

Love,

Sheryl

Ode To My Mother

Well, I guess it's not really an Ode....i'm not even sure what an Ode is. A poem? A song? Who knows. This is more of a one person standing ovation. Maybe a two person standing ovation if you count Matt, who applauds her just as much, if not more than I.

We have come a long way, my mom and I. We made it through the tough teenage years without killing each other, although i'm pretty sure I deserved a few smack downs, or at the very least a couple of toilet swirly. When I came home at the age of 18 with my fiance and told her I was knocked up, I think she about had a mini-stroke, but she held it together.

If you had asked me at the age of 14 or 15 if my mom was my friend, or if I ever envisioned her being so, I would have laughed hysterically and said HELLS NO! But, that's exactly what she's become. Not only is she my mother & friend but she is my baby-sitter, grandmother to my 3 kids and all around right-hand man. She still makes me food and brings it over. Still does my laundry if i'm ill, giving birth or struck with a gall bladder attack. She will drop whatever she is doing no matter day or night if I need her. She is a chauffeur to all of us, but mostly to Alex whom she takes to school everyday. If not for her (and my dad's) generosity,we would probably be living in a box behind her garage right about now. Next to me, she was one of Matt's biggest cheerleaders when he struck out to start his own business, which meant a lot to me, and the world to him.

Yeah, i'm pretty lucky. I probably don't show her as much appreaciation as I should. Who knows where I would be if not for her. I hope I can be as good of a mom to my kids as she is to me. Happy Mother's Day, Mom!

~Jill

You Did NOT Just Say That

I don't even know how to start this because I start rolling into a fit of laughter only I can understand and it reminds me of those morons who think they are all superior when they make a snarky comment and then say "inside joke". Except the inside joke is really between myself and myself.

I was at the tail end of a 2 day meeting in Long Beach, CA. I rarely travel and if I do, it's never to some place that is 20 degrees warmer than where I left so I was a touch ecstatic. But leaving the boys behind just sucks and that was something that wasn't so ecstatic-like.

But just when these moments were getting to me, I get a text. From Jill. She had spotted our 3rd grade teacher in Costco. 3rd grade was the first beloved school year that Jill and I had the same teacher. We had DREAMED of the day our desks would be side-by-side. And oh YES, we would wear these matching dresses trimmed with satin ribbon that Jill's mother had made. Jill's was pink. Mine was purple. Jill and I also wore dresses every single day to school except for gym days. And considering it was 1986 and we weren't governed by the Catholic Archdicoese of Detroit Code of Parochial School Conduct, this was highly freaking unusual.

While I'm 2000+ miles from Jill and her Costco encounter, I might as well have been there. I was technically standing outside of the Queen Mary with co-workers debating about whether the ship was built by Titanic ship builders and should we go up to get a drink while waiting the few hours for our flight back to Seattle. But I wasn't even contributing to the decisions or even absorbing where I was standing. I was back in 3rd grade.

Because you know what I said in 3rd grade? My big fat mouth sat in my desk dawdling around waiting for the day to pass. Some kid had to go to the bathroom while some other kid was taking forever. When Mr. Kantz finally realized how long it had been and said "Where is she?" I took it upon myself to say out loud "Well. Maybe she fell in." Well. Nine-year-olds erupt when dumb stuff like that gets said and Mr. Kantz also turned beat read, holding the bridge of his nose, completely busting his gut laughing. Just then, the holding-up-the-lavatory-pass culprit appears at the classroom door to the volcano of laughter and soon discovers her lengthy stay has caused the dumb boys to make flushing noises for the rest of the day.

By now I'm on the Queen Mary. We are in an art deco bar with windows all around facing the Long Beach city front and the water. Except. There are dudes swinging by on ropes for an MTV show and roadies walking around. I don't make this stuff up.

But. I nearly dump my drink over after the next text. I asked Jill if she said hi to Mr. Kantz. She texts back that no... because her kids were being a$$ clowns. I doubled over, spewing laughter that nobody around me understood. She did not just say that. SHE DID NOT JUST SAY THAT. Jill's mother use to call us 'hamburgers' if we were being aggravating. A$$ clowns??? That's what she said. That's what my best pal said. I had never heard that term before.

And just as quickly as I wafted there, I was whisked out of 3rd grade because while you might call some kid an A$$ clown or dream them up as being swallowed with the violent flush of a commercial grade toilet, you don't have children hampering your life in 3rd grade. My head continued to drift back towards Seattle.

Joshua was sleeping in my spot when I got home. He'd left a lamp on for me.

annoyances

The whole family has been annoyed (and annoying!) lately. Annoyed with each other, with themselves, with their surroundings and just life in general. The only one that tries not to be annoyed and have a "glass half full" attitude is Matt. Which annoys me.

Things that annoy Matt:

Seemingly nothing, but probably the fact that I am constantly annoyed and complaining about our unspacious living quarters. And the ridiculous amount of homework that Alex has.

Things that annoy Alex:

1)homework
2)when his mother calls his baseball practices/games "softball"
3)Emily
4)when Matt is to tired to play outside with him

Things that annoy Emily:

Lately, everything. But mostly Alex.


Things that annoy me:

1)The fact that nothing really bothers Matt
2)our crazilly small house (I am grateful for it though)
3)my job
4)my messy,messy bedroom
5)the fact that Emily is so touchy about everything lately and if she runs to her room and slams the door one more time, I am taking it off the hinges.
6)when I accidentally call baseball "softball",and Alex yelling "it's called baseball"
7)my dogs with their loud barking and ear infections
8)the 3 year old crack in my windshield
9)Beaumont hospital and their stupid, moronic billing system
10)jerky family members that apologize for being jerky, making it impossible for me to be irritated with them and call them jerks
11)Alex and Emily fighting
12)homework,which I am convinced is really assignments for the parents, not the kids.
13)bagels
14)Emily's messy room
15)did I mention my tiny house?

I could go on, but my list is already longer than everyone else's and I would probably just end up looking like a huge, grumpy ass hole. I guess I should work on this. But where to begin? I need a nap first.

It's been a while since my last post. Kids, life, exhaustion all got in the way of writing. But lots has happened! Where to begin?

Well, I had one of the most amazing weekends ever. It began with Friday night book club and ended with Matt cleaning the house. Woo hoo! The book club was a bit of a fiasco because the host had cats and I turned out to be wildly allergic. Luckily, Emily didn't really want me to be there and texted me about 10 times from Matt's phone saying Gracie was sick. I bolted home just to find it was all a ruse and Gracie was perfectly fine. Argh! I love book club more than you would think a hermit could, so I was very disappointed. It did resuce my allergies however. Matt had two whole days off, and we just putzed around together doing fun stuff. It was a fab weekend.

The week was kind of a blur, as usual. Dance, school, work,school concerts, blah,blah, blah.....it all runs together. Lots of things I can't tell you about too, mostly because they are about jerky family members or aquaintinces and I have vowed not to write about these things to avoid conflict in my daily life. And I guess also so the public won't find out how jerky certin people are, even though they deserve to have everyone know what they are all about. I would tell you if I could, but I can't. Even though i'm itching to. I'm holding my fingers back from typing all the jerky details. Sorry.

This past weekend wasn't as exciting. The weather was crappy and Matt was busy peddling his bagels. We did get to see my Aunt and Uncle who had been at their winter home for the past 6 months. That was lovely and i'm looking forward to Gracie getting to know them.

So, that sums it up. The post would be much more exciting if I could have posted all about the jerkiness, but alas, I cannot. No one is more disappointed than I.

I promise not to go so long in between posts. My favorite blogger,whom I read religiously, went far to long in between posts, causing me a severe irritation. Seriously, if I clicked on her site and saw the Dog Park post one more time, I was going to stab my eyeballs out with a pencil. But today she posted and now I feel like a jerk for sending her bad vibes for not posting. It turns out she is a real human with a life outside of blogging and had a bad week. I guess I can be a jerk sometimes too. Hmmmmm.....interesting.

~Jill