Shaolin Showdown at Santa's

Tonight, My Eldest visited with a friend, Matt, she hasn't seen in quite a while -- mainly because they go to different schools now. But they still are quite fond of each other and seem pretty close still (which I'm thankful for!).

Matt and his family met at our new house and we followed each other to Santa's Village. On the way to the Village, Eldest and Matt had a secret conversation (all of which I could hear but shhhh -- it's a secret!). This is how it went:

E (her hands around her mouth like holding a cup): Guess what, Matt
M (in a whisper wearing a smile): What?
E (mischievously): There's a boy at my school. His name's Ted. I fell in love with him.

She laughs vigorously in a whisper. Matt follows suit and tries to trump her:

M (in a whisper): Oh yeah. Well, I have three girlfriends. They're all in different grades. Olivia is in 2nd grade, Raven is in 3rd grade and Tammy is in 4th grade.

He laughs vigorously in whisper.

Then they start conversing in a normal volume of voice about school comparisons. They realize they both have a girl with the same name in their class, but different last names, which sparks a conversation of name comparison. Then Eldest tells Matt about a boy named Colton in her class with whom she had some bad experience in the beginning of the year (yet they are good friends now per their teacher):

E: Do you have a boy named Colton?
M: No. What kind of name is Colton?
E: He is sometimes mean to me. In the beginning of the year he called me "girl" and "bucky".
M: That is mean.

Then they start talking about other stuff unrealted to Colton, bucky, meanness, or names.

Silence.

About 10 seconds later, and after some careful contemplation, Matt speaks up:
"Hey Eldest. You know that boy who called you Bucky. You know what I would do to him if I ever saw him??"
E: Would you punch him?
M: No.
E: Oh.
M: But I would FIGHT him.

Silence for about 4 seconds.

E: Would you challenge him to a shaolin showdown?
M: Oh. NO WAY. No shaolin showdown. But I would *definitely* fight him.

Guess it's nice to know that someone is looking out for My Eldest besides me and the Hubby. Thanks Matt.

Declaration of Love for My Hubby

My Husband *hates* malls.

It is difficult to get him out of the house -- especially during the week.
Getting him to a mall on a Tuesday night that us about 20-30 miles away so that Our Girls can take pictures with a jolly Santa was an act of Congress.

Today, I love my husband even more than I did yesterday -- and it grows the more I tell this story.

You see, last night, Our Family trekked to a mall that is very Dallas-cliche in an attempt to get a magical photo op with ole St. Nick. I had taken some care in asking some co-workers where they had thier kid's picture made, and this mall was recommended. In an attempt to be efficient, I also asked, "where in the mall is Santa?" so I could park nearby. I find out by two different people that Santa is right through this particular sporting goods store. Got it. Park, get in, snap pic, leave.

We finish supper, do the dishes, get the girls all dressed up -- tights and all. It's already bed time for The Little One. Bed time is fast approaching for My Eldest.

Both girls fall asleep in the car on the way to the mall. They wake up grumpy and puffy eyed. Hubby and I bicker with Eldest and warn her that if she doesn't straighten up before we see Santa, we will be asking Santa to put her name on the Naughty Kid list and bring her a lump of coal. She pouts but acquiesces.

Parking is SUPER. Great! Going just as planned. Break out diaper bag, put baby in stroller, grab baby's sister by hand and let's roll.

We huff and puff our way through the sporting goods store. No Santa.

But there is a cute sign that says, "Santa is now by Sears on the lower level". They don't tell you that Sears is a half mile walk away from where you are currently standing.

Shit. Hubby is hating me right now, I think. Could this get any worse??

YES.

We walk through the mall only to be accosted and obnoxiously approached by 20-something trying-to-makke-a-little-extra-money-right-now (plastic) sales people at a kiosks that are strategically planted approximately 5 feet between each other.

In a French accent, "Madame, ah you nail natwahl?" Are my what what? I ask, "excuse me?". He repeats the phrase 3 times before I understand that he's asking if my nails are natural. Neither of us have been in a mall recently enought to figure out that this is the new way of drumming up bisness. Hubby is huffy. I politely walk away only to be slammed by aromatherapy, hermit crabs, moving pictures and remote control helicopters. Rude. Rude. RUDE!

And then the choir sings, the vastness illuminates and
There
HE
is.

In his beautiful suspenders. Giant jolly belly. Long natural wavy beard. Long natural hair. Cute round wire-rimmed glasses. Red nose and cheeks. He's a magical sight indeed. Santa Claus sits and chats and laughs -- with the DOGS

You see, Tuesday night is friggin PET NIGHT. So there are a ton of pets in line! We ask the 20-something I-don't-want-to-go-to-college-right-now punk-ass security guard, "where is the entrance to the line?" After all, the posted time for Santa pictures is until 9:00 p.m. and it's only 8:20.

Guard (bowing his chest importantly): Awww, it's closed.
Me: uhhh, excuse me?
Guard (defensively): Well y'know, Santa's gotta go home and eat. He's been here since 10 a.m.

I collect my madness and take a big gulp. God gives me patience.

Me: I just drove 40 minutes to get here. The sign says you're open till 9:00.
Guard: This is the busiest night I've seen since I been here. It'll take him more than an hour to get through these folks in line.

SHIT -- Hubby is going to LOVE this news. I turn to Hubby and explain what's going on. He's not happy, but he took the news REALLY WELL.

We ended up watching Santa from afar. My Eldest decided last year that she does not believe in Santa. She figured it out on her own, and we had a long talk about letting the littler kids believe and not spoil the secret. Now, this year, she seems on the fence. She WANTS to believe in Santa, but she also is logically realizing something just doesn't add up. So watching her lingering desire to believe as expressed by her twinkling brown eyes and slight smile as she looked on while all the other kids, dogs, cats, lizards and the like get their picture with Santa was so sad for me to experience.

We drove all that way only to be turned away. My plan imploded. As a result, I wrote a big complaint letter to the mall's management office. Hubby wrote an email to a local news station ranting about the experience. I like his point: Why is the mall choosing to turn away HUMAN children who have human emotions attached to the holidays and Santa, and instead opting to have pets, who don't know or care who Santa is??! I fully respect that pets are family members, but a mall is not the time or place for a pet to be. Take the pet to a Petco where there is a Santa waiting for you there. I mean, the liability of having pets at a mall has to be incredible. How would the mall react if someone was deathly allergic to cats? What would they do if a pit bull attacked a child in line? And I'm already on an anti-cat bandwagon right now and I shudder to think that a cat might actually urinate on or spray Santa. Who would allow their kids to sit up there after having animals up there? Frustrating. Very frustrating.

I expressed over and over again to Hubby my gratitude. He really was fantastic about the whole thing and I'm give him public, global props on being a team-player last night.

Roaches & Dog Food

Today I ponder as I type in my rubber gloves: Am I a neglectful mother?

Today My Little One ate pieces of a dead, dried cockaroach. Later in the day, she ate dog food.

Totally friggin nasty gross to the max disgusting on both counts.

(She's so cute, though that I still give her smooches.)

We have moved!! (The pipe just burst under the kitchen sink thank you very much Mr. DPD).
We are Homeowners!! (Did you ever friggin clean your house, ASS? After all, you had 2 english sheep dogs and SEVEN {oh how I strongly dislike them} cats.)
At the tender age of 35, I finally own my own home.
Deep breath.
Big gulp of Old Grand Dad and coke.

Yes -- big news, right? Exciting, indeed! I'm now a suburbanite. Nice. Love it!

How does my new home pertain to My Little One's new protien-enriched diet?

Scene One: Well, see, we've been a little busy. She's still a crawler. I put her on the floor as I lift boxes or move furniture or supervise projects. In our old house, there was a crusty roach on the pergo and I was helping Hubby with moving when I hear My Eldest yell, "eeewwwwww, Mommy! Little Sister ate a cockaroach!!" I saw that damned roach when I walked in the door. I knew My Little One might go there. I knew she would reach out and pick it up and try to eat it. I saw it there and just hoped that she wouldn't. I trusted My Eldest to supervise and specially asked her to watch Little Sister so that she didn't put anything in her mouth. But neither hope nor Eldest did not take the place of me just being The Mom and picking up the roach proactively. I learned my lesson. and SCENE.

Scene Two: At the New House, My Little One is playing happily on the living room floor with her Little People Zoo. I hear her squealing with delight as I am taking a much needed potty break. ~~ Out-of-place background information: my mom is here with her two dogs. ~~ So, Mom is scrubbing the linoleum in the laundry room (a.k.a. former owner's super stinky urine-soaked kitty litter box room-thingie -- yet another reason I strongly dislike cats). Hubby is doing I don't know what when suddenly I hear, "eeeewww YUCK!! Little One, don't do that! Don't eat the dog food!" When I get there, I want to tell you -- she had a goodly amount of food in that mouth of hers. It was so freaking grossly disgustingly nasty. She was fussing at us as we are digging our dirty fingers in her mouth retrieving the vienna-sausage-like goo out of her toothless mouth. For the life of us, we could not get her to take a swig of water. Okay. THIS TIME, I learned my lesson. On the baby shift-work. and SCENE.

Moving is just great with an eight month old.

Whoosh!

Oh -- Me gusto Automatica Grammatica!! Cowboys keep on truckin'!!

Turkey, Dressing and ... Egg Rolls?

(Is it pathetic that I'm blogging instead of watching Chitty Chitty Bang Bang and munching on leftover mashed potatos??)

We loaded up the fam and one very good friend of Hubby's and headed out to Small Town, Texas on this lovely Texas fall day.

The temperature was in the high 70's. Slight wind blowing. The kids were excited. There was a warmth in the house, and I ain't talkin' 'bout the cookin'. Each of us gather in a circle, pray. Then SHOWTIME! We dig into the fixins: turkey, dressing (two kinds!), cranberries, mashed potatos, jello salad, fruit salad, rolls, green bean casserole and egg rolls.

When Hubby invited Viet Namese Friend (VNF), VNF asked, "what can I bring". Hubby says, "nothing". VNF brings yummy egg rolls!

While egg rolls are not traditional American Thanksgiving Day fare, they were a hit!! I bet each of us had at least two -- and there were at least 20 left over. (We're bring those to Youngest Niece's birthday party tomorrow night.) I believe from now on, our family will be incorporating egg rolls into our T-day dinner.

After supper, we played Mexican Train Dominoes, the Grandfather took The Kids for a ride in a trailer attached to the back of a small tractor (the best fun all day according to My Eldest). Grandfather also took VNF on a walking tour of downtown Small Town, The Kids in tow. It's times like this that I soak up my family and friends and really try to marinate in the goodness that has been given me. We are wrapped in one big egg roll and are so yummy -- aren't we?

Oh -- and one more thing -- COWBOYS SPANKED THE BUCS!! GO 'BOYS!

GO 'BOYS!

It is indeed a good day.

The Cowboys handed the Colts their first loss this season -- and it was good.


I've been a lifelong Cowboys fan. I love football, especially the professional kind. College is difficult for me to follow although I will state that I'm partial to the Longhorns and the Irish. I tend to see how the UTEP Miners fared, as well as some other colleges, but there's so much to keep track of in the NCAA, so NFL is easier for me. (That might have some allegory, overshadowing or some fancy English-Psychology concept of me never finishing college.....) I dig going to the bar to watch the games, although that's a rarity these days. I'm wishin' the stars had lined up today for me to have gone to see The Legendary Peyton Manning -- the guy IS greatness. Even if the 'Boys had lost, I would've loved to have seen Manning.

Growing up, one of the best ways I found to bond with my father was memorizing the starting quarterbacks to each of the NFL teams. That was back when Stauback was around, and Danny White, Tom Landry. Our family planned Thanksgiving dinner around the time of the Cowboys game. I've been lucky enough to attend a Thanksgiving Day game vs. the Redskins back in the 90's. (That was pretty awesome.) We didn't do a lot of family things growing up, but we did share football. Also, back in my single days I could impress some of my dates with my football knowledge. This fund of knowledge more often intimidated men, resulting in the "she's one of the guys" category. Made -- and still have -- some darn good friends that are of the male persuasion. At work I host am on a fantasy football team, and have a second fantasy team with my husband through a league my nephew hosts. I still have a lot to learn.

I am floating on blue and silver clouds today!

How Embarrassing!

Tonight, My Eldest and I went to a soccer game. My friend and his family were in town because their oldest had a soccer tournament. My Eldest was very so looking forward to going, especially since she's been asking for about a year and a half for me to enroll her into soccer. I have been reluctant to do that considering she tends to be really excited about something and then she gets bored, especially with something athletic. But, we're talking a WHOLE year now, so I've been giving it more serious consideration....

Back to this evening:

It's cold -- especially for Dallas.

It's after 9:00 p.m. -- My Eldest's bed time (I actually misspelled that originally as "bad time" -- Freud, are you here again?), which means that she'll probably be tired.

We brough no chairs. No blankets. Only our bright and cheery voices.

So, My Eldest stays buried in kindly donated chairs and blankets, begging me to read her The Magic School Bus's the Human Body book. We read. She whines. I cheer. I read some more. She asks to go home, so I make her wait until half time.

On the way out to the car, I give her little tap on the head, "Did you have a good time?"

"Mommmmmmmm, don't tap me on the HEAD!"

"Why not?"

"You're embarrassing me in front of all my soccer friends!!" she asks rather politely and quietly. Then she continues, "I mean, it's okay if you do that while I'm at school, or at home, but not in front of my soccer girls, please."

It's all I can do to not just guffaw! I don't know how these girls from Austin and Dallas that she's never met before, save one, are suddenly HER soccer FRIENDS. And I don't see how tapping her on the head equates to the school-aged boy asking his mom to drop him off at school and not kiss him.

I simply responded with heartfelt apologies and re-confirmed that I will not do it front of soccer friends again.

Overeating = Selfish = A Gift

Okay, so I was reading this popular blog that really makes me laugh. She's a rather neurotic person that my "when I was in my 20's" persona can identify with. She posted a blog the other day that said being fat and overeating is selfish.

(screeching brakes) Huh?!

That struck a chord with me.

I'm fat. I don't consider myself selfish.

Then I really got to thinking about it. I'm, as previously stated, a compulsive overeater. I've been in THE 12 step program and was quite successful (if one ever IS successful in a 12 step program). I maintained abstinence for almost 12 months, lost 50+ pounds, but most importantly was FREE. Free from the bondage of always thinking about food and how putting it in my body will make me feel oh so much better (because it only really makes me feel physically ill and incredibly guilty). Of course, I was living in a smaller city that isn't so vain as Dallas, going through a divorce, living the single life, enjoying my martial arts classes 3 times a week, visiting with a kick-ass sponsor, even doing service work and really living life in a healthy way.

Now, almost 10 years later, I am not active in program. I'm not active at all. I don't work out, I don't go to meetings, I don't have other program friends in my day to day life. I'm remarried, with 2 young children, live in a megalopolis. I tried to get in program 2 or 3 times since moving here. The meetings are what I call "geographically undesirable" meaning they are so friggin far from me!! (I can hear you 12 steppers now: that's no excuse.) I basically don't possess the energy for it. Program means that program (God) comes first. If God isn't first, then how can I be the most present, most full woman, friend, mother, wife, worker, etc.?

Wanna hear something kind of ironic about that God thing? The first time I ever entered a meeting room, I was agnostic. Higher Power was a difficult concept for me to grasp. No kidding--at times my phone was HP. The PC was HP. Now, I'm a fully converted Roman Catholic and I can't figure out how to put My Father in context of HP.

I'm getting closer, though; I can tell. My treasured coin in sitting on my desk at work. I've printed off a meeting list (a friend is even willing to go with me!). I also pulled out my AA blue book. Pulled out the For Today meditations, as well as the 12 princples & traditions book. Even The OA 12 and 12. It's bittersweet to see that stack of books. They remind me of a healthy time, a free time, yet they continue to haunt me because it's upsetting to think that I will NEVER be totally free of the habit and sheer will to stuff myself full of food! Gradution does not exist. I'm a lifer. I have not seen that my eating disorder is a gift yet.

I live under an incredible amount of stress. I'm a happy person, but I have my internal battles. I numb them with 2 dozen Almond Joys in the last 2 days (can't you tell how much I love-hate Halloween??), along with a choice amount of Reeces peanut butter cups, Snickers, and well, "normal" foods that aren't so sugar enriched. I could binge on water, really. I've done it. Not a proud moment. At least I can say I never dug through the trash to get food in a desparate moment.

To this day, one of the main reasons I don't carry cash is that I will spend every last dime of it on food.

So all that said (and so much more unsaid) -- my chord is struck for a reason. While I stuff food to suppress emotions, I am actually rationalize that I am acting selflessly. In my twisted mind, I think that saying nothing, feeling nothing is really "taking one for the team". I do not need to live my life like this. I am choosing to live my life like this. Thefore, I am being selfish.

Please pray that I get to meetings, start working the program. Pray that I find a sliver of time, an ounce of sanity and a giant barrell of willingness, discipline, commitment to do this again. Lastly, pray that I receive my disorder as a gift, a blessing -- not a cross to bear. And as always, I pray God's will.

Off to read a little bit in my stack of books.

Whoosh!

P.S. Today is All Saints Day in the Roman Catholic Faith. When I was baptized, I took the name of St. Monica. She is the saint for mothers and wives.

St. Monica, please pray for me.

Remind me !!

So-ho-ho many things swimming around that I just need to dump out but it will require a LOT of time and a LOT of thinking - neither of which I have or am capable of at this second. The Honey-Do list includes:

* How compulsive overeating and being fat is selfish
* How the Wonder Woman birthday part was (I can't find my friggin camera that holds all the groovy pictures!)
* The Ticket & sports in general

Just a quick update:
My Little One started crawling on Sunday!! Look out electrical plugs!

Pursuing buying my first home (screaming in my head like they do in the horror movies)

OH and HAPPY HALLOWEEN:


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Fashion

As much as I absolutely LOVE Texas (YEE HAW), every Fall and every Spring, I'm in a wardrobe dilemma.

Monday, the temperature was something like 75 degrees.
Tuesday, it was 93.
Wednesday it was 80-something.
Today it's going to be 62.

How is a girl supposed to dress??

I'm sure my friends who read this that know me are chuckling because I'm not much of a wardrobe princess, and it's not often that I abide by social norms -- ESPECIALLY in fashion! (Trust me. If I had the money to afford fashion, I'd be quite fashionable; but I a broke sista.) So I tend to buy and wear neutrals and classics: gray sweater, black pants, white shirt and lots of different kinds of black shoes......

I pulled out a black skirt that fits just above the knee and put on a maroon short sleeve shirt with it. Looking in the mirror deciding if I was just too fat to wear this outfit or not, I had a rush of a thought of terror: it's fall -- I can't wear open-toed shoes with this!

So I fished out a pair of hose. Black, sheer hose. Pulled the slack down to tuck in my shoes. Tried on my closed-toe wedges. Okay, I look like a dork. I look like a freak who doesn't know fashion (and I KNOW fashion dammit!). "Maybe the strappy shoes will look okay." I put the strappy shoes on....slack hanging out the side of my shoes.

Ummmm....no. Ever seen that show "What Not to Wear"? Yeah -- I was that girl.

Sh**.

I don't have the right kind of black shoes to go with this damn skirt for this time of year!!!

I end up stripping down to the skivvies and starting over. Walked out of the house in my work-issued shirt with company logo and a nice pair of navy slacks. NO I didn't wear BLACK shoes with this outfit -- or open toed shoes; instead I elected to wear the navy version similar to these.

I think I'll be opposed to fashion instead of opposed to Texas. Yee haw!

Seven

The rare, wild animal in the pictures attached was captured in her natural environment. However, don’t let her cute, calm affect fool you! She is indeed a wild beast who grunts and growls and screams and screeches at all hours of the day. Luckily she is only at the stage of propping herself up on all 4s and rocking like crazy, but has not yet developed the instinct to crawl out of her habitat. She attempts to feed herself vegetables and fruits. The occasional slop of rice cereal and oatmeal get put in her feeding pan, too. We have not found anything she does not like.

Get Your Own! | View Slideshow

She loves her voice -- loves to hear the sound of it and all that it can do. She loves her big sister who is released at certain times of day. She is fond of grabbing hair if you get too close to her, but she is capable of wide-open slobbery mouth kisses all over your face. At first this slobber was thought to be a defense mechanism, but after much experimenting, it has been determined that the behavior actually is an expression of love.



Since little is known about the development of this kind of beast, she will continue to be monitored and observed. Future reports will be distributed to you, the media.