Feel Free to Call Me In An Emergency

Finally! The sun came out on the Capital! The birds are chirping! The kids are playing! I can hear lawnmowers through my open windows!

And it is raining in my house.

Onto the second floor of a 3-story house.

Yesterday, I was wandering around my house, talking to Mom on the phone, when I looked down and saw a wet shoe print on the dining room floor. Where the heck did that come from? As I moved around and caught the right angle, I saw the light glisten off the small pond between my dining room and living room. I looked up and saw the drip-drip of rain coming out of the ceiling under the master bath.

"Uh, Mom? I gotta go."

So I went upstairs. Nothing wet in the master bath. Nothing wet in the kids bath. Noodle's closet, which backs up to both bathrooms - dry.

So I went to the attic. Roof's not leaking. Pipes (tubes? whatever.) going to the roof not leaking. Floor, insulation, and walls are dry.

Back downstairs to stare at my ceiling. It was slightly bulging and starting to come apart at a seam, and the drip-drip was NOT slow.

It was about 5pm and Tater was on shift until 10. This is NOT something you bother him with at the Pentagon.

(Insert cussing here. Be liberal and use your imagination.)

What to do????? What to do????

So I tightened the faucets, dried the floor, popped some Tupperware under the drip, and had some wine.

Twenty Below Normal

Today it's 55-degrees. That's more than 20 degrees below normal. It seems as though since we arrived in DC in January, every other Weather Report has informed me how the temps are yet again, below normal.

Before we know it, July will be here and what do you bet they'll start saying how temps are all ABOVE normal?

Rude.

Noodle suggested that I start watching a different weather channel....

Also, I got lost twice yesterday, ended up in the HOV lane and had to drive about 10 miles past my exit (praying the whole time that a cop didn't see me), missed my turn and almost got rear-ended TWICE, while trying to get back on track (prompting me to stop ASAP and send Noodle to the rear of my car to make sure the brakelights were working - they were), took a sideroad to avoid traffic on 95 which ended up having no traffic, in direct contrast with my little backroad. By the time we got home, it was POURING and we got soaked carrying in the groceries.

I'm starting to believe there is no "normal" here.

Learning is Lifelong

What I learned this weekend:

Melissa Etheridge's wife is from my home town... As is Sydney Pollack, the girl who played "Buffy" on "Family Affair", & Axl Rose.

The 90-minute walk to and from Lake Accotink Park is uphill...
Both ways.

It costs about $400/year if you want to join a pool in the DC Metro area.

I'm the coolest mom in Dillon's carpool.

Two glasses of wine put me at .08 (no, I didn's get pulled over - we have a home tester)...In my defense, we do have Huge, Bulbous wine glasses...

...And, after said two ginormous glasses of wine, I don't care about my diet and eat entirely too much at dinner.

If You Want Me to Chaperone a Field Trip Then You Shouldn't Have Invited All Those Kids

I should really get to bed. I've only gotten about 15 hours sleep since Saturday and I'm starting to get a little more "off" than normal.

But that's what the Responsible Paige would do. Super-Fun Brandi's going to stay up late again and write:

I remembered today why I don't like going on Field Trips: It's all those kids that the school always invites. I know I go on about how much I don't like kids, and then one of my friends hears me and says, "Shut up. You're great with kids!" I need to make a distinction. I don't like undisciplined, running wild, whiny, stinky, talking back, getmesomerope (and a gag) beforeIscream kids. But especially the talking back and the whining. Those 2 things will send me over the edge in record time. I LOVE sweet, polite, non-screaming, funny, clean kids. (I'm not talking about babies and toddlers here - everyone gets a grace period) I'm talking a little older - when they should know better. I love talking to these kids - the funniest things come out of their mouths - they are so un-censored. They will tell you Exactly what they think about something, whether you want to hear it or not - they are not being rude, just Honest. They will dance and sing without reservation, and if they've misbehaved you can stop them dead in their tracks with a look.

This girl today in Mackenzie's 4th grade class was yelling a stupid, made-up-on-the-spot, poem about Poop in Her Shoe to impress the 2 boys sitting in the seat across the aisle from her. I said, "Sweetie (because I didn't know her name), please keep it down. You are yelling." She turned to me with a look that said, "Who the Hell are you?", and yelled, "NO I'M NOT!" I said, "Yes, you are, and you need to stop." She rolled her eyes and looked away from me, continuing the assault on my brain. I wanted to kick her.

But I had the loveliest time with Mac and her friends. They are truly delightful girls*. I got the scoop on Matt - he's the hugger, and Timmy - the class clown who likes Mackenzie (she said "Ewww."), Jordan - who Brittany thinks likes Mac too (again with the "Ewww.), and Michael - tucks his shirt in like an old man and eats his dandruff (according to Brittany). And Zachary cries at the drop of a hat (a nice boy too, but that crying thing's going to hold him back). They sang, "Ice, Ice, Baby", "Rapper's Delight", and an Eminem song I can't remember. They didn't run off during the field trip, and if I had to shush one while the Docent was speaking, they didn't send my any dirty looks. Good Girls. Good and funny. And clean. They all smelled like soap, which I can't say for the boys in my group. Eww.

*"Truly delightful girls" - proof that I'm not as young and hip as I think I am.

When Mac grows up I'm going to tell her how I only went on those Field Trips to Hell and Back so that she could grow up well-adjusted and compassionate because her mom cared enough to be Involved.

And she should buy me flowers.

Meanwhile, 11 Hours Later...

Oh. My. God.

I got my ass whipped today while trying to take a couple (as in 75 or so) simple photos.

I needed photos for my little jewelry/cards home-business to send to a girlfriend for a store she manages.

I did the jewelry first because it would be easier:

I put them on a black cloth and took them outside - sparkly things like the sun, right? WRONG! Against the black cloth the crystals came out overexposed and I lost all detail. (Of course I only knew this after I uploaded the photos to my computer and futily* fiddled around with them for entirely too long.)

*Shut up. I know that's not a word.

So back outside I went. I put the pieces, this time, on a quartz rock. The colorful glass beads & Czech crystal looked great, but the clear crystals disappeared against the white of the rock. (Of course I only knew this after I uploaded the photos to my computer - but didn't spend any time fiddling.)

Obviously "outside" is the wrong venue.

So I came inside and tried a different rock. Maybe the lack of bright sunlight would leave the crystal with more detail. Not-so-much. (Of course I only knew this after I uploaded the photos to my computer. See a theme?) But now I was getting smarter - I only took a few photos of the particularly troublesome pieces.

So now... I'm tired of my jewelry and ready to throw it off the nearest bridge, and Tater's not up yet and therefore can't ask him for help with his professional-type camera with all the fancy buttons, levers and assorted flashy-things...

So I took photos of my cards instead, and only then realized that I sold most of them at Christmas time. I took photos of what was left - not my best work, to say the least. Some came out a little blurry at the top and I DON'T EVEN CARE.



So now I'm catching on. Black is too dark...White is too light...I need Gray. Or something like it. I look over and notice that my new sofa pillows are sort of a beigy-greeny-gray.

Tried them.

They worked well enough.

Comedy is Genetic. I Have Proof. Alternate Title: "Fluff Cups"

Noodle thinks I'm hilarious. I can make the stupidest joke ever... Make a face... Use the word "fart" in any sentence... Just tell her to "stop it" no matter what the occasion and it will crack her up.

On Mondays she gets out early so today I picked her up and we went to Ft. Belvoir to the Commissary (otherwise known as the Seventh Circle of Hell).

On the way we got sidetracked and stopped at the Exchange to pick up some mascara and lipgloss for me. But because she's a charmer and laughs at all my jokes, no matter the level of juvenality (in my head, that's a word), she walked out of there with 2 shirts, 3 pair of socks and candy. And a big grin on her face.

That girl can work me. She is crack to my ego. She makes me think I am MUCH funnier than I actually am, thus encouraging me further and exposing the greater population to my particular (peculiar?) brand of hilarity.

Bottom Line: Blame the curly-head.

Super-Duper Bottom Line: We don't care if YOU think we're funny. We're too busy cracking ourselves up.

(Late hour edit: She was just putting the whites into the dryer and came up and asked me, "Can your fluff-cups be put into the dryer?" All I could do is sit here and laugh. "Fluff-cups"? Are you kidding me?

I thought the bra was all euphemismed-out: Tit-Slings... Over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder... Breast bucket... Flopper stopper... Double-barrel sling shot... Nylon milk pails... Booby trap... (I had to look some of these up)

But no one had ever thought of "Fluff-cups"!

That's my girl - contributing to the greater good.)

Do NOT...

The saga of the shed continues...

Friday, gutters are installed, doors hung, trim applied (quit for dinner with friends - a microbrewery - yum). Saturday, more trim is applied, gutter screens slid on, (quit to go buy trees for me - 2 redbuds, a dogwood, and an azalea, plant them all) further home improvment is called due to severe thunderstorms, and this morning Tater is shut up inside the shed with a paint-sprayer-thing, painting the inside white.

I think I see an end in sight.

At least a slow-down. He has to take a nap this evening because he starts his 2200-0600 shift tonight.

Oh, and by the way, if your husband is on day 7 of building a shed and wearing a painters jumpsuit, do not. I repeat, DO NOT go up to him and tell him that he looks "cute". "Like a Teletubbie".

He does NOT think it's funny.

Construction: Not My Thing

Here's what I didn't do yesterday:



Here's what I helped do today:



For 11 hours.

We (and when I say "we", I really mean Tater - my main function has been sunscreen application, drink refreshing, holder of 2x4's, and general fetch-it-bitch) have been rebuilding this shed since Monday. It is NOT fun. It turns out that I don't like building things at all. First of all, there is lots of sawdust that flies around and gets in my eyes. The power tools are scary. The wood is heavy, and I have to touch it. (I don't like to touch wood and wet wood is the worst. I don't like the way it feels to my fingers - it's like nails on a chalkboard to me. I don't know why. It's just weird.) The parts never fit together properly, and you always have to cuss while constructing. Then there's the filler that you have to use when you leave a gap, followed by sanding (and I don't like to touch sandpaper either - ewww).

So. When Tater sent me to Home Depot yesterday, I came home with an armload of plants and did what I LIKE to do. Dig in the dirt.

Now, it's looking like this:



And this:

It's All About Me!

So. Today was Mother's Day.

When I went downstairs to make my coffee, Noodle had placed, on the counter, a little clay pot of flowers (marigolds), an astoundingly beautiful picture she drew of dahlias (suitable for framing), and a lovely note telling me how much she loves me (a lot).

Next to all that was the pink & black-wrapped box of Kate Spade perfume that I bought for myself a few weeks ago, but really Tater bought and the very sneaky Nordstrom lady wrapped and then gave to Noodle, so I couldn't cheat and use it early. I've been waiting for 3 weeks to break into that! I ripped the paper off and enveloped myself in Kate's bouquet of honeysuckle, gardenia, and jasmine...

I still had my jammies on but I smelled Great!

Then, Noodle and I went out to the garden (the garden that the kids and I worked in for 7 hours yesterday - hostas and lilies and fern, oh my!) and drank our coffee and tea, then visited Dillon in his room for about an hour (because if you have a teenager and you want to see them, even if it's Mother's Day, you have to go hang out in their room), and then we got some cards and played Skip-Bo in the garden for another hour or so while catching some rays, and then my son FINALLY brought me my present from him.

He had made me a big, frosty, sweet, infused with coconutty-goodness, Pina Colada. With rum.

I have the BEST kids.

Oh yeah. And then we went out to dinner. To Austin Grill, where they have the "Swirly" Margarita. Mmmmmmmmmm.

Dirty-Word Scrabble

So. This morning. Tater was at work and the kids still sleeping, so I made myself some coffee and sat down to check my email. There was one from our reunion website (I'm an admin on it) saying that there was a flagged profile to check. I did. As happened with my profile, it flagged the word "psychology"....

So I go to the flagged words list, thinking maybe "psycho" was flagged. Nooooooooo....... looked up and down the list, trying to find the offending word.......nothing.

Then I sat, for the longest time, staring at the word "psychology", trying to find the dirty word in it.....

"Cholo"! That was it!

So I edited it to be a full-word only flag. And decided that "Dirty Word Scrabble" is a lovely way to spend a quiet Saturday morning.

House Hunting With JB

I've been house hunting with our friend JB. I was a little nervous that it would make me have second thoughts about the house that I chose last November. I love this house and I know it was by far the best house, in our price range, on the market at the time.

My experience on Monday confirmed what I already knew.

Mrs. JB

Happy May Day!

So busy...

T's on a 4-day-off rotation and OCD-ing on home renovations, our friend JB came in this weekend to stay with us for 7 days, causing me to OCD on cleaning (he's a neat-freak), and starting tomorrow I play surrogate wife to JB while he househunts all week.

Spending hundreds of thousands of dollars of someone else's money. I could professionalize that.