Mommy, do you think I can choose my own songs?

Okay, now I know it … I am a total control freak!





My darling son came to me the other day and asked me if we could load some songs onto his new iPod Shuffle that he got from his Aunt for Christmas.

“Sure honey,” I said with that motherly voice of mine.

“Can I choose my own songs for it?” he asked in that cute little boy voice.

“Of course you can,” I said, still in my motherly voice.

THEN...WOWIE ZOWIE! It hits me…why would he even have to ask??? It’s HIS iPod, not mine. If my 8-year old knows that I am a control freak, who else knows??

Next thing you know, he’s going to tell me he can play his own Webkinz™ games online and decorate the Webkinz world himself. How ever will he build and save his Webkinz money??


P.S. Apparently my husband knows about my disorder. He just asked me if “we” could get the Rhianna CD? “It could be both of ours,” he said. Surely a grown, 40-something, man can go out to buy a CD without asking his wife, right? (Do I really want to wrap my brain around the fact that he wants the Rhianna CD??) I can't really worry about that right now. I may have to go see Dr. Phil.

Grandma's b-day

Just a quick post with pics from Grandma's party earlier this month. She had so much fun and really enjoyed seeing everyone. Almost all the kiddos were there (see picture to left). And, I recognized almost everyone! Some I hadn't seen in over 20 years.


I think she was pretty tired afterwards, but has since recovered and is enjoying looking at pictures from the wonderful day. I still can't believe that she's 100 years old. It seems like just yesterday she was sitting at the Thanksgiving table making sure everyone, especially my grandpa, had enough to eat and already asking if they wanted "seconds" before they had taken their first bite. And if you even looked like you needed something from the kitchen she was up and looking for whatever was needed. I swear, I don't know if she had a hot meal until she was in her 80's. :) Anywhoo - here's a couple of pics. Enjoy!

The birthday girl was escorted by her "baby" - my dad.

Great-Grandma and Braden. He was very proud to share her day with her! He loves a good birthday party!

Mom and Dad before the big party.

After the party we had to head back to Topeka for school and work the next day. I took these pictures while we (Brady) were driving on the highway. I thought the beautiful sunset was a perfect ending to a perfect day.

My Tax Dollars Hard at Work

Ok, picture it. I was driving home from a long day at work when my car started sputtering. I managed to get it off the highway and onto a less-busy street (so I thought). When I made the turn off the interstate my car DIED. I mean sputter, sputter, cough, cough….dead. Okay, so I just had the oil changed and everything looked okay. My gas gage was low, but the low gas light hadn’t been on. This is very important information.

Since it was “rush hour” traffic in Topeka – it took about one minute before a friendly highway patrol officer found me and stopped (with his lights on) to see if I was okay. I explained to him the aforementioned facts: no warning, sputtering, dead, battery light and oil light came on, etc. He asked how the gas gage was. I said it was low, but the gas light had never come on. I’m sure it couldn’t be that. Again, this is very important information.

He kindly asked me to try to start the car. I did and it chugged and died. He said, “Ummmm, Ma’am, you are out of gas.” After I finished cringing at the whole “ma’am” thing, I said, but that’s impossible – the LIGHT NEVER CAME ON, HELLLLLOOOO!!! He, very kindly, mentioned that my gas gage *was* rather low, and it *might be* possible that the light is not working properly. NAH, that can’t be it. I’ve never ran out of gas before in my life!!! He asked if I lived far, or if I had someone bringing me some gas. DUH, I am still trying to convince him that there MUST be something else wrong with my car. I am sure it’s not that simple.

In the meantime, imagine my luck when my husband came toodling by in his car and looked twice when he saw it was me holding up traffic with lights flashing from some of Kansas’ finest. (I swear it must have looked like a very high-powered drug bust by this time.) I counted at least five traffic violations as he turned around to come see if I was okay. I thought for sure he was going to get some kind of ticket. And, the supportive wife that I am, threw him under the bus and nervously said to Mr. Highway Patrolman, “What does he think he’s doing??!!” I think the guy in the uniform must have informed him of his theory behind my mishap as he just rolled his eyes when walked up next to my car. I tried to convince Brady that it must be the battery or something. The light NEVER came on! Helllloooooo - is anyone listening to me.

The officer had already asked Motor Vehicle Assistance (I’d always wondered what those trucks would do for someone stranded…now I know.) to fetch me some gas. Brady was on his way to get our son from daycare and asked if he should go get him, or stay with me a little while longer. I’m sure the look he got said you better not leave me here alone! He was blocking the view of most of the passers-by and I felt like I had somebody on my side. He reassured me that no more than 300 cars have gone past in the seven minutes it took to get gas back to my car. How many of them could have known it was my car?

As Mr. Motor Vehicle Assistance put four gallons of gas into my tank, I asked how much we owed him for the gas. Mr. Highway Patrol informed me that these are my tax dollars hard at work. Brady then whispered to me that they would just include a charge for the gas on my ticket for impeding traffic! A TICKET???!!!! NO WAY!! Mr. Highway Patrol thought that was HILARIOUS!

Then he said to me, “Ma’am,” (QUIT CALLING ME MA’AM!) “Go ahead and try to turn it over.” I was certain that it wouldn’t do anything. Low and behold – it purred like a kitten. DANGIT!

Before I had a chance to thank him one more time, he was already on his way to making I-70 a much safer highway for all those traveling through our fair city. Thank you Mr. Highway Patrolman and Mr. Motor Vehicle Assistance. I am eternally grateful!

Oh, and FYI - I’m still having my battery tested to make sure it’s not going to stop like that again. Oh yeah, and I’ll fill my tank at ½ tank from now on!

P.S. Pics from Grandma’s birthday party (with my 100 year old outfit coming this weekend!)

100 years old!

That's how old my grandma will be on Sunday. 100 years! Can you imagine? I wonder what she thinks of this election? I find it fascinating to ask her those kinds of questions. She's still able to hold a conversation and understands most of what you say. She lived in her own house until a little over a year ago when she went to live in a nursing home minutes from my dad and aunt. She has trouble getting around and is in a wheelchair now, but her mind - it's sharp as a tack!

We are going to Baxter Springs, Kansas, for a big celebration for her on Sunday at the church where she and my grandpa used to go. All of her granchildren (25+) will be there (except my oldest brother that lives in Japan) with their kids and, for a few, their kids! She's so excited - she's worrying about her hair and what she should wear. After all, the day will be all about her! (I wonder where I get it from???)

I will be the staff photographer (see, I brought it back to me). I'll post a few pictures next week after I get back. I spent my lunch hour today and 2 hours after work shopping and trying to find SOMETHING TO WEAR! (Again, all about moi!)

What is it about trying to find something special at the last minute and finding NOTHING. Do they wait to put the crappiest clothes out on the racks until they know someone will be looking for something "special?" I found two pairs of shoes that do not match the two pairs of slacks I bought, for which I do not have blouses that will match. I did find two pairs of jeans that sort of fit, but were on the clearance shelf. If you know me, you know I can't pass up a bargain - wait for it...it's like leaving money on the table.

You know what I'll end up wearing, right? Something I already own! It's probably 100 years old. That should be appropriate.

I only had one thing to do today

Okay - I had two things to do today.

1) Yoga at 8:30 - actually ended up being more of a Tai Chi class. If you are interested in knowing about it - it totally kicked my butt!

...and...

2) Clean the frickin' bathroom.

Without giving away the whole story, the way I see it, I got half of my list accomplished today. A quick trip to Kohl's ended up taking me to Kohls, Tuesday Morning, The Dollar Tree, Westlake Hardware Store, and oh yeah, Sonic Happy Hour!

Somewhere around the Dollar Tree my butt started draggin' from class this morning and I haven't recouperated yet. I can clean the bathroom "tomorrow," right?

I'm thinking of going to bed - it' s 8:30 on a Saturday night. How old am I???? My parents probably aren't even in bed yet! I don't even think I can make it to 10:30 to watch SNL - Love TINA FEY!!

Hey, I know....I'll just TIVO it - it'll give me something to do tomorrow. Hee.

Is this what "Zen" feels like?

Okay.

Last night - YOGA.

My dear friend Sally talked me into going..ummm, I mean asked me if I would like to go with her.

I really liked it...However, I kinda sweated during certain parts I didn't expect too. My butt hurts today and there's a strange, uncomfortable feeling in my abdomen and upper torso. Huh, who knew? Maybe there's some muscle in there somewhere? I think I'll keep going to these classes. I feel better and more alert today. That could be the ibuprofen though.

I think I'll take tonight off. I need to get ready for my 12-hour crop this weekend!! WHOO HOO!!!

Wish me luck (with the exercise!).

Let's Get Physical...physical.

Thank you Olivia Newton John. No sweatband was harmed in the making of this post.

Okay. I have made a commitment to myself to take better care of myself (again). My body is going downhill at a faster rate than I ever imagined. The stress level of my work and life are going uphill at a rate faster than I ever planned. You do the math.

I pay for a family gym membership on the 15th of every month. Let’s see, Braden went swimming this summer once and Brady has yet to step inside the gym. Where’s the “family” membership again? I was going faithfully earlier this summer, but got bored. This gym has many, many great classes that I could take. From kickboxing and pilates to yoga and fit ball. It’s that last one that has recently peaked my interest. I have a yoga ball at home. I like to use it when my back is out. It’s comfy and it works my lower back muscles– and it has been in my basement for about 6 months. I blame my son for that. I have to blame someone other than myself, right? I swear he thinks it’s a $30 playground ball. I don’t think so. It's safer in the basement. The basement I do not visit. Ever.

So picture it (if you dare). I went to the class last night. I didn't know one person in the room. Not ONE! This is very brave of me. I’m actually proud of myself. I even have on my pink and black cropped yoga pants with matching pink t-shirt. I think I was about 25 minutes into the 60 minute class, sitting on the big round playground ball when it hits me... “Oh. My. GAWD. Has anyone ever popped one of these in a class?” YIKES, what is the weight limit of one of these things anyways? Surely the instructor wouldn't let me sit on one if she thought I would pop it, right? (It's pretty obvious I’m no lightweight – you don’t get this body by eating salads all the time.) In my mind I’m pushing this ball to it’s limits. I'm sure it's practically flat when I'm using it. Thank goodness there are no mirrors in this room.

How embarrassing. I’m picturing the whole scene. The ball bursting and me running out of the room and out the front door. Would they give me a refund on the rest of my membership for the year? Would they take pity on a fat girl? I’m sure there was a clause in my membership contract – something about not being able to perform the workouts because you’re fat does not constitute a reason for a refund. I’m screwed!

You’ll be glad to hear that I made it through the entire 60 minutes and actually enjoyed the class - except for that 15 or 20 minute anxiety attack in the middle of class. In addition, on the advice of my friend Barb, I have since Googled© these yoga balls and have found out, to my relief, the balls test out between 300-400 pounds. I think I’m safe as long as I don’t have that extra pickle at lunch tomorrow.