Fairies Forever

I believe in fairies. And, because I believe, the fairies hang around my house. Just ask anyone that has visited here. Nana has fairy books & fairy lights and a hanging fairy. The most important fairy places in Nana’s house are the "hidey holes".The hidey holes are built into the side of the steps that lead down to the lower level. They have little magic rings that you put your finger in and pull the hinged door open. They are enchanted places that only a child can appreciate.
Somehow, someway, when no one is looking a fairy flies down and puts a little treat in the hidey holes. When the children cross the front threshold they run (no make that race) to see what small trinket or treat the fairy has left them. Sometimes it is a barrette. Sometimes it is a piece of candy. Sometimes it looks suspiciously like something Ronald McDonald put in a child’s meal that went missing. The fairies are just amazing and there is NO limit to their imagination. One time they even left new bathing suits. Of course, the fairies are not always "with it" (after all they live in their own magical little world). Lulu saw fit to tell the resident fairy that Lucy was a size 4 NOT a size 3! Just to remind him-she left a note in Lucy’s hidey hole..
Lulu likes her treat no matter what it is. Lucy likes it unless it is chocolate. Lucy does NOT like chocolate. Did you ever meet a child that didn’t like chocolate? Let me amend that statement-she only likes chocolate if it surrounding a Junior mint. Ever know kids that liked mint of any kind? We have three! SweetCheeks likes not only her own Junior Mint she likes everyone elses too. That is why they RACE to the hidey holes. They do NOT want SweetCheeks to get there first.
On lazy afternoons we watch for fairy lights. They seem to appear most vibrantly in the late afternoon when the sun is slanting across the crystal chandelier. A shimmer of wind will set them dancing. We also find fairy lights when the sun glances off a watch and throws rays across the ceiling. We are blessed with an abundance of fairies. I never know when one will appear. I know the day will come when fairies and elves will move on leaving their trail of fairy dust behind. I am already dreading the day the last fairy flits away. But, for today, I see the enchantment mirrored in 3 pairs of eyes as the hidey hole gives up its treasure-big or small. I see the joy and wonder that fleetingly crosses little faces when a small breeze sets the gossamer wings in motion. I see-I absorb-I become a child again-and just for a moment-I too believe.

A Horse Is a Horse of course-of course-

I have a wonderful brother~ CS Charlie (I will tell you all someday what the CS stands for- it has something to do with poultry & excrement and that’s all I’m saying for now no matter how hard you beg). I hope he is reading this blog today because he will certainly remember Roxie The Burro. Mr Ed (the talking horse)had nothing on her. She had her own way of communicating.

When we were kids we wanted a horse. My father had plow horses but they weren’t for riding.so we were always begging for a pony. My father thought that a pony might be a bit "dangerous" so he started looking around for a suitable substitute. What do you think he found? Aha! I see you have already peeked at the picture. I’ll bet you thought it was a donkey, didn’t you? Well, you can bet an ass it is NOT a donkey (or an ass)-it is a burro. No purer form of stubbornness has ever existed.
I remember clearly the day we picked her up. It was down in the Valley and my father let me go along. He also took the hired hand, Louie Wheeler, with us. My father traded a cow for the burro...let me tell you...I think he got screwed but that was his own doing. We got Roxie loaded up into the back of the 1953 Chevy truck and started home with her. I think there were two stop signs in Athens, PA. At both stops Roxie threw her head back and brayed til Kingdom Come. She was a brayer extraordinare! My father laughed almost as loud as she brayed and I can remember Louie slumping over in his seat and pulling his hat down a bit. As I got older I realized that it was because he didn’t want anyone to recognize him and connect him with the unspeakable sight riding behind him.
We got her home....oh boy! oh boy! Oh boy! I can’t WAIT to get on that "horsie" (as I called her). Careful-careful-get on her careful, my father admonished me. Ever so gently I was placed on her back. Hmmmm...she didn’t like that so much so she sat down. Try again- haul Roxie to her feet and get back on. She sits down again. My father thought we should give her a break and let her get used to the place. She had a nice little barn off the main barn with a lowered door frame...remember this because it is important later in the story.
Long (oh-so-long-) story short- (that’s the SecretAgent’s favorite line-I now know there IS no short story -sorry-SecretAgent-you know I love ya like my own). Roxie would, on occasion let us ride. However, we learned to not ride any farther from the barn than we wanted to walk home. The first time it happened I was up in the back field and quite a distance from the barn. She got tired of carrying me around. First she lowered her head down hoping I would slip off....ah...but I had learned her tricks! Next she dropped to her knees in front-No go-this cowgirl is hanging on and staying straight-even if my feet are flat on the ground. Uh Oh-this isn’t working...Let’s try ROLLING. There is NO way you can stay on a rolling burro-take my word for it. Mission accomplished-she gets up-takes one glance back and merrily trots back to the barn riderless-God bless her soul (yeah, yeah...I hear the Christians again-animals don’t have souls but–the way she looked at me-the depth in those eyes...okay! Okay! )...Okay-God bless her anyway!
If for some reason she was out and spotted the barn, and didn’t ditch you first, she would lay her ears flat back against the side of her head and RACE towards the barn. Hold on and duck because a low door to the stall does not stop her. However, it WILL stop you if you are sitting upright. Ya know, no matter how good/bad/ugly that old burro was we loved her and she was a fun part of our childhood. Thinking of getting one now, are you? Well, I do have one piece of advice for you. It’s simple to understand-if you are thinking about getting a burro- DON’T! .

Little Lulu-Literally

Little Miss Literal was looking a bit sad and woe-be-gone the other day. "Lulu, are you blue today?" I asked her. "No, Nana-I’m human colored!" Okaaaayyy then.....I forgot how very literal this child is.

One day she is riding along with TPot who is cruising stations on the radio. If you have ever ridden with someone like this you know that you would like to beat them. Sadly, the law prevents it. Oooohhh..listen it’s a preacher on the radio....He intones at the end of his sermon (which we have been privy to catch the tail end of-thank you very much, TPot). He intones- "Without God we are but dust." We hear a stricken intake of breath in the backseat. "What’s the matter, Lulu?’ comes the unified question. "Oh no!" What? What is it? What is wrong...we are fearing the worst, of course...you know...wet pants....spilled milk....gum stuck in her hair....spilled milk....ink on the seat...spilled milk...oh, wait, I already said that, didn’t I?".. What’s wrong? Qaveringly she asks..."What is BUTT dust?" What? WHAT? What are you talking about? "Well, the guy on the radio says that without God we are BUTT dust!" I am stricken with laughter that bubbles up and flows out of my mouth before I can cover it up. TPot has spewed her Starbucks (oh-so-expensive -but-ever-so-good coffee out through her nose). Suspiciously, from the back seat, comes the dreaded (and oft repeated) question...."WHAT’S SO FUNNY?" TPot pretends she is coughing (which provides her with an excuse not to answer) As for me, my stomach aches from holding back the hysterical laughter that is trying to push it’s way up and out. . I give her the standard answer that every parent/grandparent uses to cover up every laugh at the child’s expense- "Nothing’s funny"- I start praying (quietly and to myself)...please, God, pleeeeease, don’t let her ask that again.

By now, however, she has become distracted by something out the window. "Hey look," she cries, Why is that dog walking that man?

You know what I think? I can’t wait until she starts dating and the first guy asks her for a kiss. Knowing her she will say, "Yes" and reach into her purse and pull out one of Hershey’s finest inventions ever-tinfoil covered and melt-in-your-mouth good- The Hershey Kiss~Yep- that’s what I am thinking~

Mimi's Mouth - Wed

Does anyone have a red-head in the family? If so, you will know exactly what I am talking about. Our little red-head was the sweetest baby ever (well, except when she was having a bad day). On a good day she would smile and play nicely by herself. She would sit in her high chair for long stretches and build Cheerio castles. You know the one....wet your finger and stick one Cheerio on top of the other until the thing topples over. Or worse, until you turn your head and your sister EATS your tower. At that point we see fit to throw ALL the Cheerios on the floor AND the glass of milk (mind you, this was BEFORE sippy cups with lids). The little face would turn a shade that closely matched the hair. I seem to remember there was some kicking involved too...oh and maybe some screaming...but other than that, Mimi was a dream child.

Then, she started to talk. WHERE did she learn those words? Not from me! Not from MyHero! She learned them from her older brother and his friends. She seemed to know just when to spew those words out for the biggest effect.

One day she was dressed in a powder blue dress with matching ribbons in her hair and socks with blue ruffles (Yes, yes, I was one of THOSE mothers-the sew ribbons (or ruffles) on the socks and iron their T-shirts kind of Moms-you know, the one you all hate but secretly wish you had the time to be like). So, the child of my dreams is dressed for her sister’s birthday party. She and I are picking up the Barbie doll cake. Did you ever see one? It has Barbie in the center with frosted goodness for a skirt. Mama’sBoy liked to lick the icing off the doll after the cake was served but that is an embarrassing story for another day. Anyway, we are at the store. Two elderly ladies are admiring my little Princess. One says, "My! Aren’t you cute?" Sweet and softness replies, "Thank you, ma’am"!.(Yes, my children said Ma’am and Sir when they were younger-people were always asking if we were from Down South-which tells you how polite THOSE kids are And, I might add, thank you all my Southern friends for doing such a good job with your kids). Number 2 gramma says, "What a pretty dress you have!" Rose petals flow from the mouth, "Thank you, ma’am". While this whole conversation is going on The Vision Of Cuteness has her hand wrapped around a candy bar -which I am NOT going to let her have-and I kept asking her VERY NICELY, and oh-so-sweetly, to PUT BACK ON THE CANDY RACK (you all know the one-it sits RIGHT next to the check out counter where no discerning child can miss it). With every sweet request I made Little Miss Mimi would jut her chin out a bit further and say "NO!". Once more Lady #1 remarked, "You have beautiful curly red hair & I love your socks". Oh my, how precious this child is as she whispers once again, "Thank you, Ma’am". Aha...but now the moment of truth has arrived. We are AT the checkout counter. We are next in line. Lady #1 & Lady #2 are beaming with joy at this enchanting elf of a child. I catch her chin in my hands, look her in the eye and say (a bit sternly now), "Mimi, PUT the candy back!" Whereupon, the vision of sugarplums comes crashing down as she screeches~ "OK-you #$%*&!"
I hear horrified gasps behind me. I am not even going to attempt to explain. I do not even want to meet their gaze. Poof~ They have become invisible to me. I look Miss Mouth in the eyes and say, "You are getting punished when we leave the store." She turns around and looks at the ladies who are quivering with shock and says..."Good-bye now"-She gives them her most sparkly smile, blows them a kiss, and we leave the store. Over the years, I have remembered that scene again and again. I often wonder what those ladies talked about over lunch that day. I am also trying to remember the punishment...whatever it was-it didn’t work!. All her teenage years she still thought I was a @#$&*!.....and now she has a child of her own. God is Good!

Hey! Watch This! Tuesday

Were scarier words ever spoken? Watch WHAT? What am I going to be watching? I already know in my heart that it is going to be something that I don't want to see! I look, I gasp, I am close to cardiac arrest! Mama'sBoy is in the trees and he is higher than the house! Are you wondering how he got up there? Let me tell you!

Did you ever see one of those monkeys that can scale the side of a building? Well, we have their cousin living with us. Those monkeys don't have a thing on Mama'sBoy. He learned to climb when he was about a year old. At 11 months old his two wonderful, and oh-so-blessed, sisters taught him to pull all of his blankets and toys out of his crib and throw them over the side. He would then hoist himself up and holding on by his tail (I mean his hands) vault over the side of the crib to freedom. When all the other kids were that age we raised the sides...with Mama'sBoy we lowered it so he wouldn't break his neck in a fall.

His next venture was climbing. Our phone was one of those wall phones that hung about 5 feet off the floor in the kitchen. It was right by the pantry door. The phone would ring and our little dream&scream machine would go into action. He would fling open the pantry door, wrap his arms and legs around the door frame and scramble up the side of it to grab the phone. I told people this-no one believed me. We had "Watch Mama'sBoy Climb Parties". We would invite people to our house. They would bring dinner and we would prep them so that they wouldn't choke when TheBoy went into action.

For a cookie he would climb up and touch the eaves of the porch overhang. (You remember, of course you do, that he cut his teeth on M&M's potty training-just imagine what he would do for a cookie). Those feats, however, in no way prepared us for The Big Climb. We went outside and observed that Child 1. 2 & 3 were staring skyward. Was it a bird, was it a plane, was it ....OMGosh! It WAS! It WAS Mama'sBoy! He was climbing to the tip top branches of the Florida tree that had been devastated by frost. Gently, ever so gently, we called, "Mama'sBoy-come down...come down."

Meanwhile Child 1, 2 & 3 are cheering him on! "Swing to the next branch...swing across-Jump...why don't you jump? Are you a chicken? " OHHHHH- Come down~come down, child, before your Mama has a heart attack! Pleading never worked with this kid-he was a dare-devil...he was Evel Knevel in a 4 year old body....he was fearless.

Guess what else he was? He was a Sugarbaby. He loved his treats...when all else failed...I called again- Come down-I have cookies! Ahh~The standoff is over. Mt Everest has been scaled and defeated and tragedy has been averted for one more day.

TPot The Terror Monday

It's a good thing I was already pregnant with daughther #2, Mimi, before TPot turned one or she would never have had a sister. You might think that your children were naughty but, believe me, they could not hold a candle to the TPot.

When she was little she was fascinated by dark-skinned people. Why? Who knows? She was always coloring her dolls faces brown (or black, or green-just depended on the day). And~Oh My~ how she loved her sister, Mimi! She loved her so much she wanted her to be dark-skinned too. She discovered that there were two ways to do it. One day as Mimi was sitting in her diaper, in her high chair, minding her own sweet little business, the TPot got into the pantry (this was BEFORE we put a lock on it-yes we did). She got out some Crisco. She rubbed Crisco all over Mimi's head and shoulders and arms. Hmmmm-Why did she do that you ask~ good question. It was so that when she dumped the Hershey's cocoa over Mimi it would stick. Let me remind you at this point, never spend 2 minutes in the bathroom by yourself if there are 2 kids that you can't see from a sitting position. When I walked into the kitchen I was met with the sweet chorus of "Surprise-Look~ it's a choculut baby!" Just what I always wanted. Can you say Bath & Bed for both?
Undaunted by her first experiment, she set out to darken poor little Mimi's skin on a deeper level. Ahhhh..BLACK magic markers to the rescue! And where, pray tell, does a 2 year old get a magic marker? Well, MyHero, of course because "she wanted something to draw with"! It was a warm, sulty summer day. Mimi is in her cutest little white sundress....ah...sundress...that means sleeveless, of course. She is playing with her blocks. TPot picks up her arm and proceeds to color it from wrist to armpit with black magic marker. Hmmm...this works pretty good she thinks...let's try the other arm....ooooohhh...SOOOO good.....let's do both legs too! Wait- OH NO-here comes Mama-Here quick...shove the magic marker into Mimi' hands. Mama...Mama...Mama...look - Mimi's a brack baby and she dooed it all hursulf. uh-huh....and chickens have teeth.


TPot had other wonderful qualities too (besides the artistic ones I have touted above). She was a climber extraordinare! She would climb the shelves in the kitchen pantry to get the cookies (or treats) that were on the top shelf. We finally put a hook style lock on the very top of the door thinking that would deter her. Wrongo! I came up the stairs one day with a loaded laundry basket (Lord~are you EVER done with laundry when you have kids? Or husbands?)...anyway, there she was. She was standing on a chair and balancing Mimi on her shoulders (OMG-it makes my heart start speeding up just remembering it). Mimi had, in her hands, a wooden spoon and she was trying to push the lock open. I very softly asked (so I didn't scare them and have Mimi come toppling down), "What ARE you doing?" TPot looked me straight in the eyes and said, "Nothing". I lifted Mimi down and started to scold TPot. She was never one to back down and say Sorry. She tilted her little chin up towards the sky and said, "It was Mimi's idea"! "No kidding?!?!" I asked her if she'd like a beating but she politely declined. I think she was what an earlier generation refered to as a willful child.


You know the funny part about this? I used to wish she'd have a child just like her...and guess what? I think my wish came true!

Those Darned Fairies

Did you ever notice that 3 adults CAN cram themselves into a love seat and, basically, get along? Did you ever notice that if you put 3 kids on a 90" couch they do not fit? That is a true, and somewhat amazing, fact of life.

Lucy, in her Snow White costume, is sitting sweetly on one end of the sofa watching The Princess Movie. She thinks it is going to be the story of her life -but we will let that dog lie sleeping. Lulu, dressed as Cinderella, comes in and plops down on the far end. She is also watching the movie. MOOOOVE over-here comes SweetCheeks and she takes her 1/3 out of the whole middle half of the couch. First, she sidles up next to Lucy who tells her in her soft, whispery little voice to please move over. Hmmmpfff...next she scootches all the way over to the other side and leans against Lulu. Lulu, being older and having lost her sweet & whispery voice, says rather matter-of-factly, SweetCheeks-MOVE OVER, watch the movie...and stop touching me..

Uh-oh! We have hurt feelings to contend with here...ummhmmm...and we are also just a tad miffed. "I not gonna go ober der and I not gonna watch yoah movie. I wanna watch Doarah da Explorah". NO! Two voices are raised in protest.... "We are watching The Princess Movie, SweetCheeks! Look, isn’t she pretty? Don’t you want to be a princess just like her?" The arms cross tightly across the chest, this dog don’t hunt, they are not "pulling a fast one" on the 3 year old. "I down’t wike Pwincesses and I down’t wanna watsch em no moah". Crocodile tears start rolling in earnest down the chubby little cheeks.

"Nana"- 3 voices call all at once. Two voices share the same complaint~"SweetCheeks won’t watch the movie that we want to watch and she is taking up the whole couch." As they are talking SweetCheeks is dragging the cushions off the couch one by one. "I NOT taking up da couch-I taking up da piwwlows and I gonna piwle dem up and change da channel to Doarah!"

"Come on", I call trying to distract SweetCheeks. "I have cookies, who wants cookies?:" Three voices chime, "I do"! Ah...there are 2 of them at the counter, hands washed and ready...but where is SweetCheeks? Here she comes! "What were you doing?" we all ask. "Hey! I not gonna tell ya but the Pwincess movie dissapeahed!" "Where did it go?" the other two ask.
" down’t know but I thinked the darwned fairies takded it-but guess what?" "What?" asks Lulu.
"They lefted us a Doraah da Explorah movie instead". Let the crying begin~

Cast Of Characters- NAME CHANGE

For all of you following along and waiting for the test on the Cast Of Characters there is a slight glitch. One of the names has been changed.
Minderella shall henceforth (and forevermore) be called MIMI- because that is what the kids call her...and I want her to quit whining about her Real Name being here-

The Farmer In The Smell

Remember the old children's song The Farmer In The Dell? Well, this is the real version of that! My friend, Sandy (her real name-hahaha-GOTCHA girl), lives on a farm. It was always her dream to live on a farm. She loved cows and horses and the smell of hay curing in the sun. She was the perfect "farmer’s wife". (Or so we thought). Guess what she did? After a rocky first marriage she met and married the man of her dreams~Larry-yep-that’s his real name too. Lo and behold, he was a farmer. They farmed. She loved the sound of the cows lowing in the barn. She adored the kittens that scampered across the barn floor and snuck them into the house when Larry wasn't looking. She had a house cat & a dog & a horse. A perfect life on the perfect farm. Ah...yes...but, as we all know, all good things must come to an end. Sadly, Larry decided they should move off the family farm and transport themselves a state or so away to another farm. Fine...no problem....Sandy’s a good sport. She likes farming & her Mom & Dad can come visit. There's one small glitch- she and I are now even further apart-oh well, we’ll just stay longer when we do get together.
They pack up the house and move way out to the wilds of Minnesota. You have to watch a movie about Minnesota to understand da language now dere, hey? Well, that sounds nice, you think. Right? A nice farm-just in another state. That’s what Sandy thought too. Then, the proverbial shoe dropped (right in the sty)! They were moving to a PIG farm. She cried, she whined, she liked to have died! A PIG farm?!?! OH NO! But, sure enough~ soon the barns were up and the little piglets started rolling in. The barns are a far piece from the house so I can’t smell them at all. Sandy swears she can-especially on a day where the wind is on the down blow- and let me tell you, where they are- the wind NEVER stops blowing! Hang your sheets out and plan on the mailman picking them up about 3 farms down. Summer isn’t so bad but those winter winds will freeze the words coming out of your mouth. Somewhere around April all those words come back to haunt you and Larry finally finds out what was aggravating Sandy around Christmas time.
Well, I love my friend and I missed her. She had already been to visit me several times. It's my turn to visit her. I’m a good sport too. I decide to pack up TPot and Lulu (Lucy & SweetCheeks were but a glint in TheBrawnyMan’s eye back then) and head off to the farm. When Sandy & I get together it is like "coming home". We are like sisters that didn’t grow up together. We have an uncommon bond. We have a more common bond too- We don’t like pigs! Now, Larry, being an all around nice guy, gave Sandy the go-ahead to use the real barn (not the pig barn down the road) for some "other animals". What does she have? She has POLISH chickens. Ever see them? They look like chickens with the wrong heads. They own the place. They are proud and loud! She also has pigmy goats~ which are about the cutest things I ever saw. They are so cute that they will eat the clothes off your butt if you stand in one place too long. She has kittens and more kittens...and some calves.
When we get there we are sure our little Miss Lulu is going to love the kittens and the goats. We line her up in front of the stall and she peeks in at the little goats.
She licks the stall (yes she licked everything-windows, doors, floors). The baby goats nibble her fingers and she laughs. The kittens are curling round her legs as she walks but does she care? No! She is conserving all of her energy to chase those stinking chickens. "Lulu, don’t you want to pet the kitties?", we ask! "NO Nana, I wike dose hickens". Great! And they are SO user friendly (NOT). We spent 3 days there and not once did we get close enough to even see if they had eyes. As soon as they saw us coming they "runned away". Not to be outdone by Sandy’s dog, Scooter, who also "runned away". Scooter is not his real name but I don't remember it and Scooter fits! We would be several miles from home and see Scooter out for his daily jog. We thought he was training for the 300 mile sprint but were unable to ascertain that fact. One day he started running and never stopped. Only God knows where that crazy dog ended up-he's probably still running.
The best part about our visit to The Farm? I lost 5 pounds in 3 days chasing ugly chickens. Yep! I’m thinking of going back and taking SweetCheeks (who hasn’t been there yet) and staying for a month- If I get lucky and SHE likes the chickens I might lose another 20 pounds!

Like I said before, I love my friend. I would visit her anywhere~ her work place, prison, heck yes-even the pig farm. However, I will close with one tip for y’all. If you are visiting a pig farm-do it on a mildly cool day with the wind on the upswing. You'll be glad you did.
pssssst~ (Sandy...please don’t send me a hate letter-you know I love ya)

Cleaning Out The Toy Box

I'm thinking of cleaning out the toybox. You know the one-it's the one the kids play with that is at Nana's house. Hmmm..Lucy, with her bright little eyes all ashine, tells me in her whispery, sweet little voice, "My Mama says I don't need this at MY OWN house anymore-let's see if Nana wants it at her house!" We used to have a toy corner. When that started overflowing I begged, pleaded, I sniveled &, finally, I baked cinammon rolls to get my dear brother-in-law to build me a playhouse- er, I mean, to build the kids a playhouse... (you know which one you are-I won't embarrass you by mentioning your name because then we would have to tell your wife HOW MANY pans of cinammon rolls you ate-fresh and oh-so-delicious from the oven-I like my sisters-in-law and want to keep them as friends. Two of them are skinny and you'd almost hate them immediately because they STAY skinny-but hey~I love you guys anyway!)...okay-where was I? Oh, yes~ the playhouse.

When I envisioned this structure I pictured a nice little 5x7 house about 5' tall. My brother-in-law thinks BIG! hmmmm...You got a pad here already poured that is 9x12. Let's FILL it with playhouse. What about a porch? We'll build it in. Hmmm...how tall do you think this thing ought to be? Oh-let's put a 2nd half story on and when the kids get older you can put a mattress up there and they can have sleep overs. Great! He came...He built...He left! Oh my gosh! I have the Taj Mahal of playhouses. I am afraid to have people over in case it is nicer than the house they live in. We are talking beautiful. Mama'sBoy did his part and roofed it-he took out extra insurance and hooked up a rope system so he wouldn't fall and die. TheBrawnyMan did all the drywalling and plastering and painted. It is a child's dream come true.

Once the carpeting was in we moved in the furniture....the child sized daybed....Gramma's sewing chair, the side table, the bunny lamp....not to be outshone by the small CRYSTAL chandelier. It has all the luxuries of a fine home. First, and foremost, all the Princess costumes find their way into baskets under the bed, then the dolls and games start filling the daybed. Is this enough? Oh no! TPot brings over the KITCHEN. She has brought it over under the guise of "oh, the kids will have so much fun with this in the play house". She is a liar. She is sick and tired of picking up all the assorted pieces that go with the kitchen. She is tired of wiping water off the floor from the sink (that plainly says-for decorative use only). She is the devil in disguise. You know the kitchen, right? -it's the all-in-one stove, refrigerator, microwave, sink, blender & toilet all in one.... (no-no-forget the toilet part-we MUST go inside Nana's house to go potty). We must find places now for pots and pans, flatware, a tea party set, plastic fruits and vegetables, a shopping cart, plastic wrap and toilet paper-wait- NO TOILET PAPER in the playhouse! Once we have filled the playhouse with all of our "bestest" stuff we have run into a sad situation. There is no place left to play. Even sadder, what DO we throw out? None of it-none of it-none of it- SweetCheeks says, "Dos are my SPECSHUL thingies, Nana"! How can you break that little heart? I can't!

I guess we won't be throwing any toys away this year but I am wondering if my brother-in-law could build a garage for the playhouse.....psssst...The oven is on & the rolls are rising.....

Who Let The Dogs Out?

Or, in our case, it would be who let the cats out? Our cats were always contained...confined...locked up...whatever you want to call it. They were "contained" because TPot had allergies (or said she had allergies-her eyes would itch and get red and swell- of course that can be faked with a bit of lotion accidentally swabbed into the eyelid). I think she just didn't like cats...oh wait....TheBrawnyMan has allergies too and I don't think he would fake it? A match made in heaven- star crossed & divine? hmmmm...

Anyway, the cats lived in our lower level where we slept with them at night and they were in the 'garden room" during the day. I should be so lucky-spend all day in the sun-filled room laying around and eating whenever I felt like it. I think in my next life I will try to come back as a big fat pampered house cat-Watch your mouth-I heard that comment about the fat, pampered part. Okay-for all the Christians in the group I DO NOT REALLY BELIEVE I will come back in a 2nd life as a housecat....a plant maybe...but not a cat.

We have (had-they are no longer here-don't ask cuz then I will start crying and that is NOT pretty) 2 cats....Misty & Mozart. Misty ~ a sweet little dream cat-Mozart - a @#$%#! er, sorry, he is a BAD BOY! MyHero picked him out of a line up. We could have had our pick of the litter-all were sleeping and purring and licking themselves nicely (or as nice as a cat CAN lick itself)Here is my piece of advice-never kiss a cat on the lips. Anyway, MyHero picked him out because he had personality! What does THAT mean? That means while all the other nice, docile little kitties were sunning themselves Mozart was jumping and diving and climbing and hissing and spitting. MyHero thought he was the cutest cat he had ever seen. He likes Jim Carey at his most frenetic if that gives you a clue. So, The Chosen came to live with us. Misty hated him on sight-almost as much as she hated the sight of SweetCheeks coming at her with open arms. We are talking ears laid back, hissing hate. He is twice her size and could lay her flat but No! He is scared-he is scared of a girl cat half his size....the wuss. When he was a few weeks old we could not keep him from climbing the curtains-literally- so, we did what all good cat people do (except for the purists who think you should not alter any animal in any way-but that's another topic for another day). We took him to have him de-clawed-front only-I am not a totally mean person-at least with back claws he can defend himself if need be. While we were at the vets I asked them if they could remove his teeth too. The girl (not understanding my sense of humor) very seriously said, "No"in a very stern matter...she looked mean so I didn't bother explaining that I was kidding. Eventually Misty and Mozart called an uneasy truce. Mozart did not look Misty straight in the face and she would not attack him...worked for her.

The grandkids love the kitties-they want to spend all their time with them. What is wrong with this picture? How do they get into (and out of) the area without opening the door? hmmm...Ain't gonna happen. Open the door...Child #1 slips through- Mozart runs out. Capture cat. Return to room...Child #1 slips back inside and closes the door. Child #2 fumbles the door open...Wait...wait...calls Child #1. Misty is right by the door-I'll hold her- Child#2 fumbles the door open...Mozart runs out a 2nd time. This time he runs faster and the chase is longer. Meanwhile, SweetCheeks is crying because she hasn't gotten INSIDE the room yet to play with the cats. Capture cat...return to room. Lulu is holding Misty (who does not like being held), Lucy is carrying Mozart back in and SweetCheeks makes her race through the door-Ah! Home free....cats and kids inside. Let the games begin...wait...wait...what's that I hear? Knocking from the other side of the door-It's SweetCheeks~ Nana-I gotta go potty! The door opens and both cats race out the door and disappear into a room in the basement where the faint of heart will not go. I, for one, am not going in there after them. For this is one thing I know~They will return- I have fish!

And So It Goes-Tuesday

It's always something, isn't it? Just when you think everything is going along fine and you are rocking and rolling along something HAPPENS. Like what you want to know? Well, let's just say that you overhear something that you shouldn't. Now we all know that YOU are not a gossip, right? But let's just say you overhear something and REPEAT it to your good friend and they repeat it to their own BEST FRIEND (which is, obviously, not you) and they add a tidbit of their own that they gleaned from another party. Pretty soon what you have is a great big bald-faced lie and it has been traced back to you. That ever happened? Yes it has-you're not kidding me. We all gossip.

Now, MyHero and his friends meet for lunch once a week. (or twice-if it's more than that he's lied about it because they go to an All-you-can-stuff-in-your-fat-face-buffet & he says he is dieting) . I call it the GoodOleBoysClub- all one word- These men know more about other families than their pastors do. It is amazing! Hey, MyHero, says- I am going to tell you this but don't tell anyone. (Right!) How do you know this?-I ask him..... My friend, Mikey (no matter that this guy is now 60+ and bald-he is still, and shall forever be, Mikey-not Michael, not Mike- it's Mikey) told me. Your friend, Mikey, told you? (I always double check the facts -a habit that drives MyHero round the bend-that would be crazy for all you non-Midwesterners) Yes! MIKEY told me! ( SOMEONE is getting a tad snitty now) Where, pray tell, did he hear it? Never mind that...he just told me...okay? By now MyHero is no longer sure he wants to share his ill-gotten information with me. Well? I ask...I am waiting...this better be good because I had to climb down off the ladder that I am using to paint the outside of the house to hear him. The story unrolls. What's the rest? I ask....Rest? What do you mean~the rest? The rest of the story- just like Paul Harvey says....what is the REST OF THE STORY? Dumb-founded look-Well, that's it! That's it? I knew that 3 weeks ago....I'm the one that told his wife in the first place....AND...she promised me she wouldn't tell him plus she has embellished the story with people I don't know & added places that I didn't even know existed! I will never tell her anything again I promise myself (oh, except about you-know-who that just had her belly button pierced- why DOES anyone do that?) Well, as Scarlett O'Hara said- I'll think about that tomorrow.

And so it goes- The moral of this story is - If you are on the ladder painting the house just ignore the person below you- it's not worth the climb down.

Happy Valentines Day

Here's how you make a Valentine.

First you get out 3 bottles of glue. Make sure none of them are washable (that would make cleanup too uncomplicated and would not allow you to use curse words). So, first and foremost, do NOT use Elmer's Washable School Glue. That one is for sissies.

Next you must find 3 partners to make the cards with. Let's say they are ages 3, 5 & 7! Oh, boy! We're in for some fun now! You now have the two most important ingredients. Kids and glue oh wait...wait...I forgot the THIRD and MOST important ingredient - GLITTER- bottles and bottles of glitter. Next? Make sure you pull their hair back (if you pull it tight enough so their eyes slant it should stay in bounds until the gluing part is over with). Then- bring out your box of CRAFT SUPPLIES. You don't have any? Sure you do! Let's see....do you have magic markers? Do you have tissues? Do you have any crayons? Do you have a knife? Wait...wait...forget the knife...just get out the other stuff. Knives can be very dangerous in the wrong hands. Some of us learned that in couples' counseling, didn't we?

So, now we have kids, glue, GLITTER and supplies. Let the fun begin!!! Wait...what? Oh, yes~I almost forgot we need SCISSORS. The scissors are the highlight of the whole project. With scissors you can take 1 sheet of construction paper and make 10,000 smaller pieces of paper. Make sure there is some glue on that paper before they start cutting. That way, when it falls on the floor it will stay in one place-----forever. I always wanted a "speckled" pattern on my floors and finally got it...it looks especially good on the nice polished wood base.

Lucy and Lulu set to work in earnest. Not to be outdone by SweetCheeks who has managed to free her hair from her ponytail. Not to worry though-the hair is not in her eyes-it is glued to her forehead-oh, isn't she C-U-T-E? The glitter that has fallen on her eyelashes is an especially nice touch. Meanwhile, Lucy has misplaced her scissors (they are probably glued under something) but she is sure Lulu has them. She is SO sure that she is SCREAMING......NANA! LULU TOOK MY SCISSORS. Nope! SweetCheeks raises her hand with great confidence. " I haf dem". (Lord love a duck-She has the ones with the POINTY ends on them).Great- Lucy snatches the scissors from the gluey little hand. Crocodile tears begin to roll down SweetCheeks face and fall onto her "card". This is not going as smoothly as I had planned. NanaDiana to the rescue! Here...here....let me help you SweetCheeks- NO! I NOTWANNAHELP! (I just want to sit and cry so you feel sorry for me). Now, the "stop crying tricks" start? Oooohhh...look how pretty that is......sniffle...sniffle...sniffle....You did a really good job, didn't you? Head nods...sniffle...sniffle.. I think that is the BEST one! Nod and small smile!

Whereupon, Lucy & Lulu raise their heads in protest that theirs are better than THAT one!!!. SweetCheeks grins and replies- "NO they NOT-Nana sez my own is da bestest." Storm clouds begin to gather on the sidelines. Wait-wait- "Wow! They are ALL beautiful"...now who wants to help clean up the mess? No problem- but - "Hey, Nana, do you think we could make some cupcakes too?"

Huh? What? Do I LOOK crazy? Am I on Candid Camera? Are you kidding me? I open my mouth and out comes- "Who wants to lick the beaters?" (before remembering there are only TWO beaters and THREE kitchen aides ) Boy-o-Boy! I just can't WAIT until we dye Easter eggs!

The Cast Of Characters

You know-before this writing "career" hahahaha-oh, yeah...you are supposed to get paid for a career, aren't you? Well, before this BLOG (Lord, what an awful word-it makes me think of the sludge that floats on the bottom of the glass belonging to the 2 year old who has had milk with her oreo cookies. Yeah, I know-you have never GIVEN your children OREO cookies...sure..you only fed them green beans, brown rice and skim milk...whatever..) Back to BLOG-it's kind of an ugly word, don't you think? The point is-before this BLOG gets much bigger I think I am going to have to introduce the cast of characters that will present themselves from time to time. Now, there WILL be random people thrown in here and there and if I get the word that you aren't following along YOU will be the subject of a whole little message here. So, watch it because I can be NICE or I can be BRUTAL- Your choice.

The cast of charcters in the BLOGS that will follow are listed below:

MrK~ ( does not like being identified) so..henceforth I will drop the MrK and call him My Hero (hahaha-that's a whole joke in itself but I will let it pass for now)

TPot-Oldest Daughter-Nicknamed TPot by Mama'sBoy -Why? No one knows.
TheBrawnyMan-Nicknamed that because his wife (TPot) entered him in the MrBrawny contest
Minderella-2nd daughter~The red-headed princess of the house-a good door slammer
2/19/10-Minderella shall henceforth be called MiMi (cuz that's what the kids call her & I'm tired of her whining about her name)
IslandScout- Hubby of Minderella-so named because he came from the FL Keys & ran a Boy Scout Camp there
Mama'sBoy- Youngest Son-Named himself & proud of it
SecretAgent-Wife of Mama'sBoy and I can't say more-the name says it all
MrT-Oldest son (jeweler by trade)
AbsentOnes-Oldest Son's family-I don't talk about them-they don't talk to me-Nuff said

Little Lulu-Oldest daughter of TPot & TheBrawnyMan-(alias-Little Miss Literal)
Lucy/Ria-2nd daughter of TPot & TheBrawnyMan-a curly headed clone of Minderella (looks & acts) 5/09 Ria doesn't like Lucy-she is now RIA.
SweetCheeks-The BABY of TPot & TheBrawnyMan-The family clown

BabyEEEEEFan- First son of Minderella & IslandScout-bright blue eyes & cute as a button

There-Confused yet? Study the above. There will be at test at some point and this BLOG will have disappeared. You think I'm kidding, don't you? I will be typing along on some tidbit...and you will go....wait....wait....which one is that? You will quickly scan back to find this post-Pooof- It will be gone. Just like geography-if you don't study it you will lose it...Quick....quick....what is the capital of Peru? If you said Lima-you are right-You studied your geography. But if you are like my friend (who is NOT named above-but, honey, you know who you are) you will call me from class (she has to make a call because I refuse to start texting) and asks--quick...quick...what is the capital of Peru? psssst...oh & what is the capital of Columbia because I see that is the next question. lol That's what I mean-apparently she did NOT study her capitals and now, alas, must call me. Take warning from that folks & study the aforementioned list!

So, my friends, now you know who's who. As the stories unwind, you will lay down and roll on the floor (no I am not talking about your Sunday church experience) when you read some of the things they have done. You will roll your eyes, you will laugh til you snort, you will wonder if such things could really happen in any family. Yes! Yes they have! The things I will tell you HAVE happened in my family and I claim them proudly....well, I claim most of them proudly...except for the time the joke tellers were on stage and called out to the audience , "What is the difference between Boogers and Broccoli?" Whereupon Mama'sBoy proudly yelled (loudly) BOOGERS TASTE SALTY! Now don't that just make a Mama feel proud?

2/19/10 Edited to Add- Minderella has been changed to MiMi- Maybe NOW she will quit whining!

5/1/10 Edited AGAIN- Lucy no longer wants to be Lucy-She wants to be Ria...Lord love us-The kid is now Ria (Ree-ah). Thank you Lord, and God bless her.

POSTING A COMMENT

Hi guys- It has been brought to my attention (by a few of you) that you were unable to post a comment. You must select who you are posting as- It might be your name or anonymous then you must hit the preview button before you post-It will pop your message up (so you can see it before you actually post it-in case you have said something awful (or worse, stupid). If you are pleased with your post you can then Hit POST. I thank you very much and my motto is- Look for the humor in your day-If you're going to shed tears let them be tears of joy! Hey-that is a great motto (if I do say so myself). I think that is gonna be my "sign out" from here on out. Later, my friends-NanaDiana

Driving To School

Yesterday I took Little Lulu to school. She spent the previous night at our house all by herself~a rare occurrence when you have 2 younger siblings. She didn't have to share hugs or attention with anyone. She is a comical little thing- 7 going on 12. She is smart beyond her years (and makes sure her sister that is one year younger knows it). She can read on about a 4th grade level and comprehends pretty much of what she reads. She took a test on dinosaurs and got 100%-you know, Herbivores, Omnivores...remember those? Sure you do! Sad to say MrK did NOT remember his dinosaurs. She said-I'm going to give you a little test Papa. What kind of test he wanted to know. Oh, it's an easy one she assured him. There's only 12 questions and I got them all right. After the test MrK hung his head low with shame. She told him that if he ever DID have to take a REAL test she would help him with the answers. Yes, indeedy, our little Lulu is very smart. However, and here is where it gets interesting, she is very literal- Let me spell that for you L-I-T-E-R-A-L. What does that mean, you ask? I'm so glad you asked. Well, I would have told you anyway but it's always nice to get a little encouragement. (Her MOM is literal too, but we aren't going to talk about that today-I will save that for a day when I need a REALLY GOOD laugh). So back to Lulu~ We are driving along and she is reading. She is reading a Dora The Explorer book. Now if you are around kids you know who Dora is~she is the modern version of Captain Kangeroo (raise your hand if you remember him-You too, you liar, I KNOW you're old enough to remember him-always giving me that crap that you weren't born yet-yeah right-you might LOOK 40 but---I KNOW who your plastic surgeon is-I work at the hospital remember?)...okay...where was I? Oh, yeah, Dora The Explorer is like Captain Kangeroo- only without the cheerios in the big ole droopy mustache. She goes on great adventures and teaches you the Spanish version of the work-like Hola- for Hello. So, Little Lulu is reading along and she comes to a spot in the story that puzzles her. She stops reading and asks, "Nana-what is a SCHOOL BUTT?" I asked- "You mean a school BUS? (thinking to myself OK-this kid is not as smart as I thought she was). NO...she says....School BUTT-what is a school but? I said- Lulu-that must be a mis-print it must mean school bus! By now Lulu is working herself into a snit. NO-Nana-it says right here Dora is going to the school butt. Huh? What? What does the NEXT sentence say? OHHHHH- It says, Dora is going to the school BUT she needs to walk on the sidewalk. Ah....thank God! Mystery solved but I am about to wet my pants from trying not to laugh out loud (well that and the fact that I drank a whole pot of coffee while she was poking along getting ready).

However, here is the greater mystery of the day. As we get nearer to the school (which I should mention at this point is a parochial school-which will come into play a bit further along) Lulu is reading (I think) and says- Jesus, Mary & Joseph! OK-Either she is cursing, which I doubt because she has never cursed before, OR she is praying (and going to her school that might be an option)....but just to make sure I whip my head around (without my eyes ever leaving the road because that wouldn't be safe with a child in the car)...I whip around and look at her. She is staring out the window and pointing. My eyes follow her extended finger. Lo and behold, it is a Christmas Nativity. No matter that it is now Valentine's Day.... No matter that all the other Christmas decorations in the area have been stored away...No sir...what we have here is a life-size nativity on the front lawn. (nothing wrong with that folks-we all have them)...AH-but here is what makes this one special. The "shelter" (call it a creche, call it a stable,whatever you like)...the "shelter" is made out of stolen signs! I am not kidding you-I am not making this up-Jesus, Mary & Joseph are residing in an abode that would not please them. I'm not sure about this but I am pretty sure that the idiot that set this up didn't realize that when you are standing straight in front of it and looking in you would see a big Vote For sign on one side and a ROADWORK AHEAD-DO NOT ENTER on the other side. What was this guy thinking? Now, not only do I have to explain WHY he has a stable up in his front yard for Valentine's Day-I have to pretend that I didn't see the stolen street signs....and don't be trying to tell me that they were discards. I have NEVER in my whole, l-o-n-g life seen discarded street signs. Have you? Before Lulu can ask any more questions we have reached the school and I am off the hook. You know-It could have been a whole lot worse. We could have been coming down the back street to our place where the neighbor has seen fit to make a large metal oval oil tank into a Holstein (that's a cow (C-O-W) for all you city folk) complete with ears that stick up and a milking farmer....Imagine explaining THAT to a kid!

That's Not Hims-That's My Own

What do you get when you cross a curly red-headed Irish-looking lass (who by all accounts is Polish/English/Scottish/PADutch/French/Unknown/AND Irish-there may be more but I forget what else that might be)...anyway...what do you get when you cross that one with a BBQ'd rib lovin' boy from the South? Give up? Well, you get a curly-red headed little mite that never quits moving and loves to eat. He's about as cute as a new born speckled pup. I picked that phrase up from a guy that I dated (a darned cute redneck from Southern Florida-meaning NO offense to any of you Southern rednecks reading this-you know who you are and I love you-or should I say y'all). So...as I was saying-he is CUTE. You MIGHT think your grandkids are cute, you might brag about them and show pictures around but you have not seen ours. They are so cute I don't even have to post pictures of them here to show you how cute they are. I am doing this so that you don't feel bad after you see them and then have to look at your own grandkids.

Does this baby have a name you ask~Of course he does. From this point on and for his whole life we will fondly refer to him by the name that SweetCheeks christened him with COUSINT BABYEEEEFAN. Yes, that's right, all one word. Just like I am NanaDiana- He is BABYEEEEFAN.

Now, before BABYEEEEEFAN (you can add as many E's as you want, by the way) came along SweetCheeks was IT. If you have kids you know what I mean by IT. The BABY of the family. She was fussed over and admired. She was cooed to, talked to, licked (by siblings-not me), and touted as the smartest, cutest, most adorable child the world had ever seen. She could do no wrong. Did she dump the whole roll of toilet paper in the toilet? No problem-she's just a baby-she's just learning-she doesn't know any better. Did she write with magic markers on the wall? Couldn't be-that must have been her sister- who, by all reasonable accounting, SHOULD KNOW BETTER. Well, Cute Little SweetCheeks, MOVE over-there is a new baby in the house and here he is!

SweetCheeks looks this one over. He doesn't look like a threat. She is thrice his size and can bulldoze him down if she needs to. No-he looks a lot like her doll that she hauls around. Great! She thinks she can pick him up and put him in her doll stroller. WAIT! WAIT! We all yell- and here comes the four words that she will dread worse than she hates liver (which makes her gag).....DON'T TOUCH THE BABY! She looks at us like we have grown extra heads. WHAT? ~SweetCheeks, don't touch the baby~ Her response- I NOT! You will come to recognize that her two favorite phrases in the whole world are- I DIDN'T and I NOT. She hasn't got to the blaming stage yet but that can't be far off. She glares at BABYEEEEFAN! Hmmmm...he is not quite as cute anymore, especially if she can't touch him. She looks around. ~Nana~ "Yes, darlin'" -Thas MY OWN highcharh & HIMS can't sit in it- (aha-we have shortened his name to HIMS now). Okay (I know that by the time he actually CAN sit in it she won't care anymore). -Nana-HIMS can't sleep in my widdle beddie (the crib). Okay-(he is in a bassinet anyway). Nana-HIMS can't use my spechal fowk and spoonie- Okay-NOOO problem). She looks him over again. She watches him from the side of her eyes so that we can't SEE her looking him over. She pretends that she is interested in the book that is right in front of her....wait for it.....wait for it....she POKES BABYEEEEFAN! "SWEETCHEEKS"- we yell in unison- then quieter- Don't touch the baby! SweetCheeks with arms folded and lips pouting out replies~I NOT!!!! I DON'T WIKE MY NEW COUSINT!

And, so it goes, out with the old and in with the new!- Just like your favorite sweater that is just a bit past its prime . You still love it as much as you ever have -it clings to you in all the right places, soft and sweet as a whisper, and knows you intimately- but you love the new one too.
Say-where is that "old sweater" and what is it doing? (Did you get that analogy)It is awfully quiet around here- Later folks!

Get Up-Are You Up-GET UP!!!

Good Morning!
Are you up yet? Have you had your cup of coffee to bring you into full consciousness? I have one of those stinking pots that has a mind of its own. It will "automatically" start your coffee at a certain time everyday. I set it with all good intentions of getting up at a certain time and having a steaming cup of brew waiting for me. All well and good-but how does the thing KNOW exactly what time I going to get up? How do I know exactly what time I am going to get up? If you have one of these suckers you know what I am talking about. If you set it to start at 5:45 AM you can guarantee any employer that you are going to wake up by 5:00 AM. So, you will be at work on time but your coffee will NOT be ready when you get up. You stumble out of bed and head for the coffee pot-ooooppsss...make that head for the bathroom and THEN the coffee pot. You look at the pot-You stare it fully in the face-it is NOT running. By now you are fuming, and trying to keep your cool. You push the START button and wonder why you paid extra for a machine that you can program. Aha! See I know you better than you thought.

Everyone has their little pet name for coffee- Java, Cuppa Joe, Beans, or as I like to call it, SHOCK' ER. I stand by the coffee pot mumbling to myself. I am waiting for the perfect time to snatch a cup from the running stream. That is because I am too impatient for the drip machine to finish brewing. They call it drip for a reason, you know. Drip-drip-drip-annoying as the devil and it takes forever. So, if you wait until the pot is almost full the coffee is not too strong and tastes hot and good. However, there is a finite point in coffee brewing. If you wait TOO long to snatch a cup all the flavor is out of the beans and you essentially have a cup of tainted hot water...if you interrupt the flow to the pot too SOON you get something I call LAURIE'S COFFEE....yes, yes...you know who you are. You are the one that makes a pot full of coffee using the instructions on the side of the can (which truly makes overwhelmingly strong coffee-they are not stupid-the more coffee you use the more you buy-Presto! Money in their pockets) and then, my aforementioned friend, you ADD a few scoops just to ensure that it is good for a jolt. Her "special person" , who shall remain unnamed, had perfectly nice DARK hair when I first met him....a few years of Laurie's coffee and VIOLA- he now has a head of perfectly beautiful WHITE hair! (Geez-maybe there is something worth marketing there)...hmmm...

Do you know the best coffee I can have in the morning? Starbucks! Yes! That's right-Starbucks! I am Starbucks best customer. They know me by name, they know my drink, and they recogonize my Oh-so-special Gold REWARDS Starbucks card. They fill my cup inside and hand it out through a window so I can drive to work. Why am I working at this age, you ask? I'll tell you why! It's because I am addicted to Starbucks! Addictions cost MONEY! To get coffee money (without listening to you-know-who complain every time he sees a Starbucks cup about how much it costs- I think his exact words are, "Diana, do you KNOW HOW MUCH THIS COSTS to drink Starbucks every day?"- I think that's exact-if not, it's close)...where did I leave off in that sentence- oh, yeah....To get coffee money for MY OWN coffee- I go to work! Simple as that-they give me cash and I turn it over to Starbucks......OR.....I turn it over on cute little clothes for the grandkids....but that is another addiction to be discussed another day. My coffee is waiting........Have a good morning!

Just Another Day In Paradise

Well, whoever said being a grandparent was the most fun they ever had was right- most of the time, that is. Except for the puking and coughing and "NO-I SAID NO!" moments, being a Nana is just about the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me- well, except for the time I punched my brother in the arm and the stone had fallen out of my ring and it left big prong marks in his arm but we don't like to talk about that in front of the kids. Well, my brother does but he likes to use me for the bad example in the family. You know, everyone has a purpose in life, even if it is to serve as a bad example for others. You can quote me on that. Well, you can quote me on just about anything I say-even if most of what I say isn't worth quoting. But then, you aren't paying a dime to read this so don't expect anything too grand.

I am so excited to have a blog I could just spit...but I won't because then I would have to clean it up myself....just like I clean up everyone else's spit, snot, puke-you name it- I have cleaned it. They never told me that when I had grandkids I would have the pleasure of re-experiencing all the puking and spitting I had previously enjoyed with my own children. Why did they neglect to mention that I wonder?

No-when they tell you about being a grandparent it is about how cute the kids look all dressed up for Mother's Day. They forgot the part about all the slime that will be coated down the front of that sweet, lilacs-oh-so-cute (with lace, of course) little dress that matches their beribboned hair. Oh, yeah, and don't forget about all the bits and pieces of the meal that have embedded themselves IN the hair. I especially appreciate the pancake syrup. That is always a nice mess to clean up. So, when Sweet Cheeks asks, "Nana-I wanna have some pahnscakes wid sirrrup, okay?" I sweetly respond-"NO PANCAKES!". Ah! See, I have discovered her trick. She doesn't eat the pancakes. She pours the syrup on her plate and licks it off when I turn my head. When I am watching her dead on she is contemplating that pancake like it is the most delicious thing she has ever seen. When I turn to her sister-Watch out- it is face in the plate and it goes downhill from that point on.

I need to end this now. The 3 year old is ripping the pages out of a library book that belongs to the school the 7 year old attends. That should be fun to explain tomorrow! I guess I'd better start taping before the crying starts. Later my friends~