I Miss Lucy

I don’t normally watch much TV when I’m home, but do like my morning dose of Good Morning America (love that Robin Roberts) and five minutes of the weather before I go to bed. Tonight as I turned on the TV, I scanned through the channels a few minutes before my news team was to appear and found nothing even worth the effort to click the clicker to watch.

Please tell me this.  Who in the world watches these shows?   Is there someone out there that really cares about who the Missouri Police Department arrests? Who is going to lose sleep if they don’t find out what vermin Billy the Exterminator is killing?  I just don’t get it.

If you ask me, and I’m sure you will, nothing can compare to good ole’ I Love Lucy.  To this day, if I’m channel surfing and come across Lucy and Ethel doing anything, I have to sit down and watch it.  I can’t resist Lucy and her facial expressions, wacky physical antics, and her desperate desire to be in one of Ricky’s musical numbers.  I miss her.

I remember getting up before school (probably 5th to 7th grade) and watching The Three Stooges from 6:30-7:00AM and then Lucy would be on from 7:00-7:30AM every morning.  I couldn’t wait to see the rerun of the grape episode or the episode she tells Ricky she’s having a baby.  (I think that one’s my favorite.)  With all the technology and witty writers out there, you’d think they’d be able to come up with something that’s the same caliber as I Love Lucy, but no!   They just can’t do it.

So, maybe tonight instead of waiting for the weather to come on, I’ll surf e-bay instead.  Maybe I can find a cd boxed set of my favorite red-headed comedian.   I miss Lucy.

Not Gonna Happen

When you’re 9 years old, playing with Legos is still cool. When you’re 9 years old, having the occasional stuffed animal in view when friends are over is still ok.  When you’re 9 years old, apparently it is NOT cool or ok to wear anything Star Wars.  I thought I was being a “with it” mom when I bought the shirt, but apparently I was mistaken.

My son informed me in a very plain English sort of way, “I am NOT going to wear that.  All my friends will laugh AT me, not WITH me.  I am NOT wearing that no matter what. Not gonna happen.”  

There is a fine line, a very fine line, at 9 years old of what is perceived as “cool” in the 4th grade and what is “nerdy”.  I tried to explain that it’s the trend of the season and there were 30 different types to choose from.  They had the Superman logo, Batman cartoon “POW/BAM” shirts, Darth Vader light sabers and many more to choose from. He didn't care.  He was not about to be caught dead or alive in it.   Not gonna happen.

The confidence to stand out in a crowd and be you must come a little later on; maybe 6th grade, but definitely not 4th grade; at least not for my 4th grader.  My 13 (very soon to be 14 year old) son however, thought it was very cool and wants me to just exchange it for his size and not return it, which I am on my way to do as soon as I finish this.  For him, the line no longer exists.  It’s how you wear it and the confidence you have in yourself.  He got it.  To him I was the "with it" mom I was trying so hard to be.  My 9 year old just thought I was being mean and was more or less asking him to wear a pink Barbie shirt with ruffles on it.

Maybe by the end of the school year, he'll be willing to take a bit more of a risk.  Unlikely, but there's always hope, right? For now though, I’m off to get a few more stripes and solids for his closet.  Definitely won’t be coming home with any Yoda shirts anytime soon.  Not gonna happen.

The Ramblings of a Mother’s Mind on a Monday

Some thoughts that made their way through my mind today……

Will the breakfast fairy bring me breakfast in bed this morning?

How is it possible for the fussing to begin only 45 seconds after they get up?

Who buys the pre-packaged school supply kits for $75?  I just spent less than that for two

boys combined, not one!

Would it really hurt if I had a diet Pepsi? 

When will they invent a washing machine that has a special “red item” detector amongst the light colored items?

I love my children, even when they’re goofy.

Our neighborhood is all I dreamed it could be.  Children laughing, people out for walks, neighbors chatting and the like.

I really need to get back to the gym.

Going to London would be so enjoyable and would love some time with my niece.

I hope our dear neighbors are enjoying their adventure in Japan.  They all crossed my mind several times today.  

I’m the only one who doubts my ability to write a book.  Why?

Why is it that those who judge others quickly are the ones who bark the loudest when someone has the nerve to judge them?

I need want more candles.

I think my cats understand me.

Blog Title Envy

I love reading other people’s blogs. The stories are interesting, heartwarming, and often touching, but I read them more for inspiration.  There are certain ones I follow for their photography and there are others I read for their choice of words or funny twists.   I always learn something new when I read them.

Lately, I’ve been fascinated with their titles.  Some are straight forward and right in your face, but the ones I love are the ones that grab you by the arm and pull you in.   It’s harder than you think to come up with something catchy and pertinent to your story.  I know, I’ve tried. Perhaps I may have a slight case of Blog Title Envy.

As I browsed through some of my favorite bloggers this morning, I started to see some patterns for titles.   A formula of sorts.  So I’ve decided to try my hand at Titling, or at least that’s what I’m calling it today.  For me, being creative, in whatever way, fuels my soul.  I feel better if I’ve done something creative or crafty during the day.  So I hope you’ll allow me to think aloud for a bit and try my hand at being creative with Titling.

            Fruit + Day of the Week

                        Watermelon Tuesdays

                        Blackberry Sunday

                        Strawberry Saturdays

            Color + A Sound

                        Green Whispers

                        Periwinkle Clapping

                        Spring Green Thunder

            Soft Drink + Number

                        Root Beer 98

                        Jones Soda 24

                        Shasta 16

            Animal + Sport

                        Turkey Tennis

                        Kitty Kickball

                        Parakeet Polo

                       

           

                       

A Red Puddle and a Plastic Bag

You know I’ve been feeling a bit slow lately, but not in a bad way, just in a “enjoy life moment by moment” way.  Well, I’ve kicked it up a notch the last two days and have painted both of the boys’ rooms.  (Pictures to follow once I have the stripes done and all the stuff back on the walls.) I have to admit, it feels really good.  Both love them, which is a plus for me.  They should like them however, they got to pick out the paint colors. 

Little Guy- Grey walls with three two inch stripes around the top 12 inches of the wall in black, lime green and turquoise.  (I know, I said the same thing. His comforter has all those colors in it so it actually will coordinate in the end. At least that’s what I’m telling myself.)

Big Guy-Black and red.  Sounds simple right?   Well, I just had one of my girlfriends paint her son’s accent wall red and said it was a nightmare.  I was a little worried after I heard that.   I opted not to prime. (I know.   You’re supposed to prime the wall so it will cover better. I just don’t have the patience though.)  It actually turned out very nice, though. Dark, but nice.  

I took my time painting my little guy’s room and not a drop of paint hit the floor, woodwork or anything!  I was so proud of myself.

Since I had left over energy from the day before I did my big guy’s today.  Still taking my time, especially with BLACK and RED paint.   I kept telling myself, “If this hits the floor, I’m going to swear so loud, my mom will hear me 5 miles away.”  I really took my time.  Black. Done.  Not a drip.  Now for the red.  I was even nervous opening the can.  Lid off.  Successful.  Pour.  Pause.  Shock.  OMG!  Yes, you guessed it.  As I was pouring the paint into the small pan, the can rocked back too far, and sure enough, ¼ of the paint was now on the floor and my feet. 

I was stuck and couldn’t move.  THANKFULLY, I had put down double plastic all around the perimeter of the room.  The entire red puddle was floating like grease in water atop the plastic bag.   I’ve never thanked God more.   After wiping my feet, and calling for reinforcements (children and husband) I managed to contain the entire spill and put the tarp into two trash bags without ONE drop of red on the floor.   I couldn’t believe it. I was so relieved.   Just goes to show you, that accidents really do happen even when you’re being careful.  (Note to self, remember this when son dents the car one day.)

I’ll post some pictures of the finished rooms shortly.  Off to pull the tape off the trim.  (And to say another prayer of thanks.)