Hoo-Ha Talk

Feeling better, though I think I overdid it yesterday. I spent all day puttering around the house - I just couldn't sit around for another day. I vacuumed, cleaned the kitchen, rearranged the pantry (hello, OCD!), did some laundry, made pancakes for breakfast (and cookies for lunch!), worked in the yard a bit, then took Noodle to Blockbuster. Princess Diaries 2. Cute. (If you're a girl.)

And now I'm bleeding like a stuck pig.

Though anyone who would stick a pig in her hoo-ha is a sick, sick puppy.

Enough hoo-ha-talk. Noodle only has one more week of swim and dive team. She has mixed feelings about that. She's had enough of getting up every morning to swim at 7:30, but truly loves to go to dive practice every afternoon. Key word: AFTERNOON. I think she would be enjoying swimming more if it weren't so early. I'll be interested to see what she does next summer.

Reese's Penis

So.

Noodle and I were standing in the checkout line of Target the other day. I'm checking out the candy selection to see if there's anything interesting to rot the teeth out of our heads and make us fat, when I spot something. "Hey, Noodle. Look! Reese's Penis!"

Really Loud.

Then we started laughing Really Loud. The lady in front of us, and the lady behind us, and the checkout lady - none were laughing. But we were DYING! We couldn't catch our breath. We had tears squirting out our eyes. And the more they DIDN'T laugh, the more we did.

We made it though the checkout lane, all the way to the car I kept an eye on my back for Child Protective Services, and when we got to the car, Noodle looks at me and says, "Reese's Penis?"

(Hysterical laughter again......) (And again and again, periodically through the night.)

What I had actually meant to say was, "Look Noodle, REESE'S PIECES WITH PEANUTS."

Be warned.

Hating the Updates

I always hate it when I let so many days go by without updating. Then the prospect of picking things up from here seems overwhelming. Where do I start? Do I recap? (I hate recaps.) Do I just start from today? (Today was boring.) How 'bout a compromise: I'll hit the highlights. I can think of a couple people who are wondering if I fell off the face of the earth again...

First of all, D made it home from Florida ok. It took him forever to get off the plane and I was having a panic attack that he had gotten on the wrong plane again and was waiting for me in Albuquerque.

Then the next day my parents arrived for a visit. We saw Arlington, Mt Vernon, Lincoln, FDR, Jefferson, WWII, Navy, Women in Service Memorials...We went to the Museum of Natural History, the Air & Space Museum and tried to see the Declaration of Independence (line too long)... went to 3 swim & dive meets, the Nursery to buy plants for my birthday, and ordered out Chinese. After the week we were all exhausted and lost about 5 lbs each in water-weight from our reinactment of the Bataan Death March the day we saw all the memorials.

Our G5 tanked and it took a week, my laptop, several phone calls to Apple, and a trip to the Apple Store to fix it.

D went back to Indiana with my parents for a month to work. Doing hard labor, hopefully.

(Boys, TMI just around the bend...)

I had my D&C, Hysteroscopy, Polypectomy, and Biopsy (check me out, I'm like WebMD) done on Monday. Today is Wednesday, and I surprisingly still feel like crap. I have to pee constantly, until this morning I was constipated (making me think of Dooce at the most inappropriate times), immediately after which solving THAT problem I started bleeding again, I'm still cramping, laughing hurts and I feel like someone inflated a balloon in my belly, and on top of it all, I have a clearish-yellowish discharge. I am, in a word, Gross.

Ho-Hum

So Noodle just spent the first 4 days of her summer vacation with a sore throat and a fever wavering between 100 and 104.9 degrees. She was seriously bummed. She missed 2 swim meets and a dive meet. She seems to be better tonight so she's going to practice in the morning at 8am. She is already whining about that. She is part vampire and is not at all about the mornings. Especially during summer vacation.

I heard from Dillon after being in Florida for about 24 hours. He had lost a contact and forgotten to take extras. What a goof. Thanks to Wal-mart, it is no big deal and he can get more down there! OOH! But he has to do it before the 30th. That's the day his prescription expires. Hmmm. I better call him in the morning.

I have a pre-op appointment in the morning for my D&C next month. Ugh. Not sure what to expect and I have mixed feelings about the surgery anyway. If it corrects my girly-troubles then I guess I'm OK with it, but being put under, and the scraping, and the recovering is raining on my parade.

Drama Before Dawn

I saw the most beautiful sunrise this morning.

From Ronald Reagan National Airport.

I set my alarm for 4am, but woke up at 3:34. (At that point it's just stupid to go back to sleep. Twenty-six minutes is just enough time to fall into a deep sleep, just to have the rudeness of your alarm* jar you into the present and thus ruin your whole day. Better to get it over with when you wake up naturally.) (*But I do suggest trying out my alarm clock if yours scares the crap out of you in the morning. It's the iPod Compatible Travel Soother 20 Radio/Alarm Clock from Sharper Image. I got it for Valentine's Day and it has a deal where you can change the super-scary alarm to sound like church bells instead. It rocks. Very soothing, yet still gets the job done.)

ANYway, the reason I was even at National at such an ungodly hour is that I had to drop Dillon off at Gate 35 for a 5:55 boarding call for his flight to Florida.

Yup, the kid got out of school yesterday and bailed down the beach for A Fortnight of Fun with his BFF, Milton. He checked 2 boogie-boards and a duffel bag full of shorts and T's and carried on a Big-Ass Grin.

And then got on the wrong airplane. Don't even ask me how it happened, but he took the shuttle out to the commuter, boarded, and said he was sitting in his seat, 9A, when a guy came up and said, "That's my seat."
D says, "No, look right here. 9A, that's me."
"You're going to Orlando."
With a big grin, "That's right!"
"This plane's going to Philadelphia."

So he got up, told them he was on the wrong plane (thank God seat 9A was booked!), and they got him hooked up with the correct flight. I heard from him around 11:30. They were on the way to the beach.

I, on the other hand, have been nursing Noodle all day long. She woke up with a sore throat and fever and at this point has spiraled down to whispering and topping the thermometer at 104.6.

She's asleep now. I don't expect to get any for the next 24 hours at least.

The Tween

Time is doing that slow, time-warpy thing again. The days fly by, but when I stop to realize what all I have done over the past week, it seems very much like Nothing. Scratch that. It IS very much like nothing. Laundry. Gardening. Picking up kids. Dropping off kids. Watching dive practice. Cooking dinner. Dusting (it's very dusty here). Run to Post Office. Grocery. CVS. Do you feel all drained and heavy-like yet? Then you get the gist.

(Time out for phone call.)

That was Noodle. Today is the last day of school. She ran out of money in her lunch account yesterday. Crap! Now I have to go make a lunch for her and take it to the school by 11:30. THIS is what I'm talking about. Really. The hard part about babies isn't the added expense, or the diapers or all-night crying jags. It's when they require constant maintenance/rides/trips to the mall to keep them "involved" and "cool" as teens and "tweens".

Noodle is a "tween". Not a kid, not a teen. But don't tell her that. She thinks she's an adult. Seriously. She's always been an "old soul", but D was like that too, and I just always attributed it to Tater and I being so young when D was born - there weren't any other kids around - and then when Noodle came along, she just got absorbed into our grown-up life. I started thinking about it a few weeks ago when a friend and I were talking about having a Girls Night Out. Noodle heard us and said, "I want to come".

"You can't. This is just for adults."

She looked right into my eyes and said, "I am not a kid."

And it occurred to me just then that she's really not. But, she's not 21 either. Bummer for her.

Time Trials

Noodle had swim team time trials today. She did great! And she almost even looked like she was having fun! It was only 60-degrees when we woke up this morning. She was totally unimpressed and I practically needed a crowbar to drag her out of bed. Once we got there, she came around and, while her lips were blue, she did smile a few times and didn't grump around when she came in last in her Freestyle heat. I was very proud of her. Then she did better in Breast and Back. We skipped Butterfly (with permission of the coach) since she doesn't know how to do that, and headed to McDonalds for a celebratory Oreo McFlurry. And a Filet-o-Fish.

I'm Back With A Horrid Update

Things are out of control here.

Firstly, and stupidest, my kids are still in school. Until June 24th. Can I tell you how much they SOOOO don't care about school anymore? The temps have been in the 90's for most of the past 2 weeks, and they are so over it. And D still has to sustain for the next two weeks until finals.

Starting backwards, we had Bushey & the "Lips" (with the new baby - so STINKIN' cute) over for dinner last night, WHILE Noodle had 4 of her friends over for a dance-practice-for-the-talent-show...sleepover. Three of them are still here but they're quiet so they can stay. For now.

On May 31st, Noodle started swim team and dive team practice every day. She gets out of school at 3:35 and has to be at dive practice at 4. Then swim team practice starts at 5:15 and she gets home a little after 6. Then homework and bed. Then she wakes up and does it all again. She is ready for summer too.

I was making jewelry and getting it ready to send to Japan, between shuttling Noodle around, helping Tater, gardening, cooking, cleaning...You know, Mom-stuff.

Tater's been building stuff. After he repaired the leaking bathtub, that is. We figured out that the leak in the kitchen was coming from the master bathtub above it. Luckily, it wasn't a pipe or anything, we just needed to caulk up the plate surrounding the tub's overflow valve. Problem solved.

He's building a new desk-cabinet-bookshelf-thing that spans the width of the basement. It's about half done so far and looks great. It gives us a lot more room since we could get rid of our other bulky desk. I'll take some photos soon.

He started painting the walls in the basement yesterday. A buttery yellow. We can't decide if we like it, but we can't agree on what would be better. He wants sage green, I think that's stupid. I want something bright and beachy. The problem is that our sofas down there are RED. Bright, primary red. Khaki would look great, but most of the 2nd floor is tan/khaki/chocolate & red. I wanted someting different to look out onto the patio.

Damn. It's hurting my head again.

Busy.

BUSY! BUSY! BUSY!

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.)