From the mouth of babes

I was giving a bridal shower. I was going to play the game where you put a bunch of items having to do with the honeymoon into a purse. Then someone "accidentally" trips coming into the room, spilling out the contents of the purse. They make a big production putting the stuff back into their purse and then you pass out a pencil and paper having everyone write down as many items they remember having seen from the purse.

Anyway, I was getting the items for the purse ready. We had decided not to be too risky but had enough stuff in the purse to be fun and embarrass the bride a little. I had been able to get everything safely in the purse except the last item before my 11-year old daughter came into the kitchen. "Why are you putting hand-cuffs in your purse, mom?" she had asked.

Oops. "It's for a game." I told her truthfully. "It's something they won't expect to be inside a purse, so it will be funny." That part was mostly true. I figured that was a good enough explanation. I had people arriving any minute and I didn't want to get into That conversation with my eleven year old right then.

"That is funny?" She had asked, not believing me. "I don't want to grow up then, if it means I'll have to lose my sense of humor." she had said disgustedly as she left the room.

525,600 Minutes

My husband and I were driving in the car the other day. "It's trash pick up tomorrow." He said. Yup. It's amazing that our existence has been reduced to measuring our life by events such as garbage day. In fact, growing up, I don't think I even knew that there was a specific day of the week that we got our trash picked up. Now sometimes I will watch out the window when the garbage men take my trash away. Silently doing a victory dance. Yesss! I don't know why, but in the back of my mind, I have an irrational fear that they will take one look at my trash and say "EEWWWW! We aren't going to take that!" And i'll be stuck with a never ending tower of trash. So, for me, trash day is always an exciting day!

It reminds me of the song from Rent...525,600 minutes, how do you measure your life? 52 trash pick-ups, 2 dentist appointments, a trip to the eye doctor...How do you measure a year in the life?

Typical Heather. Practicing her flute with proper accessories.

The Book of Secrets

Teenagers are like a large book with a lock on it. Inside, the book is filled with the rules needed to unlock the secrets to teenagers. The rules are very complex with many exceptions and clauses and must be decoded and then translated before the book can be read. The problem with this book is that the combination to the lock and all the rules inside, change every day. So, if you do happen to figure out how to unlock the book, everything will change by the next day, and you have to start all over.

Where am I?

I am not good with directions. Never have been, most likely never will be. In fact, whenever I go anywhere (even locally) I tend to give myself an extra buffer of time to allow for getting lost (i.e. if I find myself in Pennsylvania I have gone too far).

Last week my husband dropped 2 of our kids off at Penn state music camp. He then started asking them if they knew which way was north and that they needed to get themselves oriented to the campus. My daughter Heather immediately told him that the day he married me he lost all rights and expectations for his children to have any navigational sense whatsoever. Sad, but true.

The first night, Heather called and said that she had been walking around for a while and couldn't find her dorm room. She said that they all looked a like and so far her pass card hadn't worked on any of them yet. So, the next night when we called to see if she had found her dorm okay, she sounded offended that we would ask--implying that she couldn't find her room! Huh!

During the week she ended up in a saxophone master class (she plays violin and flute) but she was too embarrassed to leave and go to the right class. I told her that everyone there probably knew she didn't play saxophone. She said, "I know, but they were too polite to say anything." She also ended up in the wrong conducting class.

Nicholas didn't fare any better. He wasn't able to find his jazz band sectional and ended up in a rhythm class which he enjoyed so much he ended up going back the next day as well. He also sat in an empty class room for 15 minutes before a search party was sent out and he was taken to the right class...

I guess we all have to find ways to live with our handicaps...they will have to either learn how to read a map, ask for directions or do what I do--leave early enough to get lost and still get to where I am going on time...

For a talent show, my family played a medley of 70's songs--YMCA, Staying Alive, etc. and I found some really fun clothes at the Goodwill for us to wear. Brian thinks this picture makes him look like a pimp, but I like it--it's groovy.

Sorry, I don't do windows

Have you ever noticed that slowly you start doing chores that didn't used to belong to you? One day it hit me as I was taking my husband's car to get his oil changed that he was good. Not only did I not realize that he had turned over the job of getting the cars serviced to me, he did it without my even realizing it!

Last week, a friend came over and I apologized for it being so dark in living room. She asked why I didn't just change the light bulb. The way she put it, it made it seem so simple. Because, I said, once I start changing the light bulbs, it will become my job. Not just the easy ones in the living room, but also the difficult ones outside that require screw drivers and a ladder. I have to draw the line somewhere, right? She just rolled her eyes, took a light bulb from the cupboard and changed it. Now, she said, that wasn't so bad, was it? I told her that no, it wasn't and could she take the trash out now that she was done.