Birthday Bitch

Funny crap, I am blessed, Mr. Tolerable, My life, Random Stuff

That’s me and I wear that crown proudly.  Last night I celebrated my 30th birthday with 30 of my closest friends.  The pre-party was a local (and yummy) Mexican restaurant.  I got some pretty risque gifts like “Stripper Pills - release your inner pole dancer” and “Glow in the Dark Lubricant.”  Practical gifts like hand sanitizer and Tide To Go Pen.  There were “grown up” presents like a cute pair of angels from my friend Tess and my Mom got me fleece sheets (ahhhhhh).   And a silly gift that was used all night: a shiny pink and silver crown that read, “Birthday Bitch.”   (thanks Joanna!!)  Yes, I wore it the entire night.

I think the gifts I received are what I am and who I have become over the past 30 years.  I’m lighthearted and love to laugh.  I tend to enjoy the between the sheets athletics with my husband.  I am practical and have grown up.  But, not to the detriment of just relaxing and having a good time.  In my last post I spoke about how I didn’t want to take things or myself too seriously when I turned 30 like it seemed so many I knew had done.  I hope I managed to walk that fine line between being a responsible, bill paying, mother and wife and a fun-loving, social drinking, always laughing, woman who loves life and those she chooses to share it with.

I had such a wonderful time last night.  The perfect way to spend my 30th birthday and I thank my Mr. Tolerable for throwing me a wonderful party.  The friends, wine, karaoke and chicken wings were all fantastic and you are the love of my life now at 30 and forevermore.

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Turning 30 and proud

I am blessed, Infertility, Mr. Tolerable, My kids, My life, Parenting

The 18th of this month will mark the anniversary of my entrance into this world.  I remember every year on my birthday Mom telling me the story of my birth and the exciting happenings that soon followed.  If she forgot, I would be sure to remind her.  I am the youngest and the only girl.  The gap between my closest brother and myself is 7 years.  I think you know where I am going with this….I was spoiled beyond measure or reason.  I had a happy-go-lucky childhood.  I had the best Mom in the world and it is because of her I am the mother I am today.  I had the best roll model anyone could have.  From birth to about 18 I was a happy girl who knew what she wanted in and out of life.  My how things can change.

I remember being a youthfully stupid 20 year old and thinking how far away 30 seemed.  I would look at “grown ups” around me and think, “30 year old people are just so…..old.”  They had mortgages, jobs, kids, responsibilities and took everything seriously.  I didn’t want to be that way when I turned 30.  I think I did ALL of them except maybe the last.  But, honestly, if this past year is any indication of what my 30’s are going to be like this is the most awesome time of my life.  These are the good ol’ days.

When I was turning 20 I was dating Mr. Good Guy and confused about where my path would lead me.  I was lost, confused, sad and empty.  College was just something to pass the time.  I look at it now as 4 expensive years of extended high school.  Of course, when looking at pictures of my 135 lbs self and can’t help but think, “That would be nice.”  The body is really the only thing I would like to go back to.  But, I know I have “spread out” as my dad would say, due to carrying two beautiful children for 9 months.  The stretch marks, saggy boobs, and big butt are just a few of the rights of passage of being what I am today; a mom.  My dream.  I know some of the Gloria Steinem’s out there say that I am not living to my full potential.  That women for centuries have been fighting so I would not have to “lesson” myself and stay home barefoot and pregnant.  I agree with part of that.  Women have been fighting so that all women have the choice of what they want to do with their lives.  I choose, and relish, being a stay-at-home mother and wife. It’s a little out-of-date.  Probably not hip or cool.  But, I love it.  And, just to toot my own horn a bit, I’m pretty durn good at it.  My husband often tells me I am the most natural mother he’s ever seen.  To that I answer, “nothing I’ve ever done has ever felt so right.”  It’s like breathing.

And to think that there were several years when I did not know if I would ever to realize my dream.  It took over my every thought and prayer.  A commercial, a song, a pregnant lady at the grocery store were all reminders of what I did not have.  My mid 20’s were full of doubt, anger, frustration and sadness because of the infertility.  I was so happy to have found my soul mate.  Until I met Mr. Tolerable I thought the love that songs are written about and movies portray was something made up.  As soon as I meet my soul mate I understood what love was.  But, there was a big piece of the puzzle missing; a family.  It was a depressing and lonely time but I learned so much about myself and what was really important that I know I am blessed for the struggles we faced.

If there was one thing I would like to go back to during that time it would be the quiet times with just Mr. Tolerable and I.  The trips we went on.  The laughter we had as a young couple with no children to chase after, keep us awake at night, or discipline.

But the 30’s, so far, seem so wonderful I just want to press the pause button on the dial of life.  My children are old enough to not need me 24 hours a day but young enough to need me most of the time.  My best friend and husband is working from home and spending so much more time with us.  We have a cute house by the park in a nice little town.  I have great friends, a wonderful family, and an ever growing faith in Jesus.

I am in the process of getting back that 135 lbs body from my 20’s so there will be nothing from that time I want to go back to.  I am about 3 weeks into “Project: Bringing Sexy Back.”  Here is my semi before picture.  Wish me luck!  Happy Birthday and Life to me!

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Let’s lighten things up a bit, shall we?

My kids, My life, Random Stuff

People who know me, know I am a goofball.  But from time to time I like to get serious. The last two blog posts were my serious side…now I’d like to get back to the goof side.  It’s a lot more fun.

My goal this year is to buy ALL my Christmas gifts online or through a catalog.  I wish I could say it was because I want to avoid the big crowds at the stores. But, in all honesty, I just LOVE getting packages delivered to me.  When the UPS, DHL or FedEx truck goes by and doesn’t stop at my door, I feel a level of sadness I’m sure  is unhealthy for an adult to have over something so trivial.  And when I hear the screech of the breaks on that big brown truck I rush down the stairs like I am meeting a long lost relative.  The mixed feelings I have when I have missed the truck and have a package on my porch are, I’m sure, certifiable.  It just does not bring the rush that having a packaged handed to me from the guy in the ugly brown shorts affords.

Just yesterday my friend, Ben, from the UPS truck made a stop at my home to deliver a LARGE box. I knew instantly what it was.  My baby girl’s Christmas present.  I found a large lot on ebay that I could not pass up. There is not a little girl I know who would not love to get this:

Big Lot of Fisher Price Sweet Streets Buildings, People and accessories

Big Lot of Fisher Price Sweet Streets Buildings, People and accessories

I am pretty confident that I am compensating for my childhood dreams of having an elaborate dollhouse with all the perfect furniture and rugs.  I had a great childhood but there were two things I never got that I always wanted: a dollhouse and tap/ballet lessons.  I cannot wait until Christmas arrives and she walks down the hallway and sees this miniature city waiting for her little hands to manipulate.  I only wish Santa would not get all the glory but that is the selfish side of me rearing it’s ugly head.

Next year?  Dance classes…

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And for me and my family we will serve the REAL Lord

Just my opinion, Politics

Last night as my husband and I watched the acceptance speech given by now President-Elect Obama, we both kept looking at each other with confusion on our faces. We never said anything.  Nothing could be said.  This is what the nation decided.  As he spoke with emotion, energy, focus, and determination I found myself being swept into his brood, I got goose bumps and thought “this guy’s goood.”  Then they would flash a view of the crowd and I would instantly be snapped back into reality.  This is scary.  The people are wide-eyed, crying, screaming, jumping up and down, and I’m sure there were young girls that had to be carried out due to losing conscientiousness.  I didn’t like the feeling I got when I saw that.  This truly is a cult of personality.  People love him.  They adore him.  They are putting all their hopes and dreams into this man.  And sadly, they are worshiping him.

I can appreciate how African-American’s would have a level of pride unsurpassed before.  Only 100 years ago this would have been not only impossible but talk of it would be seen as laughable and punishable.  Here we are, so far beyond those times.  It is a proud day to be an American, no doubting that.  But, worshiping him?  I never saw that coming I guess.  Whites, blacks, homosexuals, heterosexuals, young (mostly) and old.  Believing this one man has all the power to make their worries go away.  Trusting that he will deliver them from a life of hardship, into a life of wine and roses.  And they are buying it hook, line and sinker.  There is even a blog called Obama Messiah where the writer looks into everything he does from the perspective that he is indeed the messiah we have all been longing for…..except for those of us who know the real Messiah walked on water, raised himself from the grave and gave the world undeserving grace - even for unspeakable acts as these.

I hope Obama will be the President he says he will be.  Listening to the people.  Being honest with the people.  Joining both sides of the aisle together to work as a bipartisan government.  I pray that he delivers all that he is saying.  I hope he is the man he says he is, not the man his past proves he has been.  His record as a Senator and in his personal life does not fare well in the eyes of a conservative, Christian, patriotic,  America-loving woman such as myself.  But, honestly, none of us know much about this silver-tongued young man as he really has not done anything.  Sure, he’s done more than say, ME but I’m not running for President of the Free World.  What people were banking on is, “This guy seem so Presidential and nice, and he is change.  He just has to do a good job.”

My prayer:

Dear God, you knew the outcome way before we did.  I pray that as a nation we come to You as our delieverer, our savior, our friend and our God.  Only You have the power to help us during struggles and we, collectively are in one.  The hopeless, Godless, and faithless are trying to fill a God-shaped hole in their heart with Obama and we all know a circle won’t fit where a square should be.  Help me personally to trust in you; to have faith that you are in charge so that I do not worry so much about what I cannot control.  In Jesus Christs name I pray (always). Amen

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Cult of Personality

Just my opinion, Politics

Do you remember that song?  I looooved it back in the days of tight-rolled pants and AquaNet.  It was sung by a band call Living Colour.  A rare blend of hard hitting rock and an all African-American band.  And an awesome one in my opinion.  One hit wonders I believe but hey, that one song was awesome.  Don’t know what I’m talking about?  Click here.  Here are some of the lyrics.

Look into my eyes, what do you see?
Cult of personality
I know your anger, I know your dreams
I’ve been everything you want to be
I’m the cult of personality
Like mussolini and kennedy
I’m the cult of personality
Cult of personality
Cult of personality

Neon lights, a nobel prize
The mirror speaks, the reflection lies
You don’t have to follow me
Only you can set me free
I sell the things you need to be
I’m the smiling face on your t.v.
I’m the cult of personality
I exploit you still you love me

I tell you one and one makes three
I’m the cult of personality
Like joseph stalin and gandi
I’m the cult of personality
Cult of personality
Cult of personality

You gave me fortune
You gave me fame
You me power in your god’s name
I’m every person you need to be
I’m the cult of personality
Look into my eyes, what do you see?
Cult of personality
I know your anger, I know your dreams
I’ve been everything you want to be
I’m the cult of personality
Like mussolini and kennedy
I’m the cult of personality
Cult of personality
Cult of personality

Neon lights, a nobel prize
The mirror speaks, the reflection lies
You don’t have to follow me
Only you can set me free
I sell the things you need to be
I’m the smiling face on your t.v.
I’m the cult of personality
I exploit you still you love me
So, until recently I had not thought of this song in many a moons.  But, now I think of it often.  The reason?  Barack Obama.  He’s like a freaking rock star.  People flock to political rallies who do not even intend on voting for him (or anyone) but think he is some sort of God.  It truly has become a cult of personality.  He’s smooth, smart, articulate, has a great smile, looks healthy, and seems nice.  He has charisma.  He’s a swell guy.  I give him all of that.  But, I am pretty sure he still has to take a shit now and then.  That when he gets drunk he is one of those guys who hugs you too much and forgets about personal space.  You know, one of “I love you guys” type of drunks.

If he is given the position of President of these United States (just tasted a little vomit) he will prove just how little he knows about not only how to run a country but about that little, unimportant piece of parchment called The Constitution.  He thinks the geniuses we call our forefathers got it wrong when they constructed a government Constitution that spelled out what it could not do for the people (ie: make a national religion, infringing on the right to peacably assemble, can’t subject us to unreasonable searches and seizures).  No, Obama thinks all that is fine and good, kind of. Here’s a radio interview he did in 2001.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iivL4c_3pck]

All knowing Obama thinks the Constitution should explain what the Government can do for the people.  That is what our ancestors were getting away from when they sailed across the Atlantic.  They were escaping from an oppressive government that was telling everyone what they could and couldn’t do.  But, what did they know?

It just ticks me off.  I love this country just the way it is.  I don’t want the government doing anything for me except printing money and providing a military to protect me and my family.  Leave the rest to the people.

Mandy the Stay-at-Home Mom

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I’m going to brag on my husband a bit.

I am blessed, Jim the Tolerable, Mr. Tolerable, My kids, My life, The job hunt

If you are in a marriage where you feel like your husband would rather spend time with the dog/golf club/TV/car/bar/buddies/his right hand than you - skip this entry because I have so much bragging to do on my guy that it would make even the most “happily married” person gag.   You’ve been fully warned.

If you have been reading my posts you know that recently my husband left his job at a new home builder and has decided to work from home as a professional handicapper/horse player.  I know most women would cringe at the idea of their husband being home.  Honestly, I wondered how we would fare being in a confined space for an extended period of time.  Turns out - I NEVER WANT HIM TO GET A REAL JOB AGAIN.

His chosen career allots for plenty of time to do other things around the house.  He creates his own “honey do” list and works on it with vigor.  Example one: I asked him this past summer to help me transform our downstairs living room (AKA the place where we pile the clean clothes as it waits……and waits for me to come down and fold it) into a play room for the kids.  The wintertime in Southern Indiana can get rather mundane to put it nicely and it would be so nice to have somewhere else to go.  Plus, play dates would hopefully be a BIT quieter and more fun for the kids as well as the Moms.  Well, my Mr. Tolerable worked his cute little tail away for the past 2 days moving furniture, a Big Screen TV, rewiring the TV so we have a VCR AND a DVD player, removing doors, and vacuuming.  I didn’t remind him, I didn’t harp at him.  He listened when I said it the first time over 4 months ago and just did it.  How many men do that?  He has also been “wiping the rest of this place into shape” as he like to put it.  Hanging new binds, measuring our back door to be replaced, organizing his offfice, mowing, grocery shopping, doing laundry (since he is downstairs anyway, where the machine is - his words, not mine) ordering a new fridge and me a new Palm Centro (AWESOME).  I just keep saying, “You spoil me so bad!”  His response is always the manly, “Cuz you sex me up baby.”  Followed with either a butt squeeze or a boob honk.  What can I say, he’s still a man.

Jackson and Alex absolutely adore their Daddy.  It has been so awesome watching their relationships grow in just a few months.  They now get to see Daddy anytime they want.  Yesterday morning Jackson made his Daddy blue berry muffins (with a touch of help from Mommy).  He was so proud of himself and couldn’t wait for Daddy to wake up.  As he was stiring the mixture he looks up at me with those huge hazel eyes and says, “This make Daddy so happy!”  My heart melted.  Jackson was right.

Our relationship and marriage is better than ever.  Our finances (thanks in part to inheritances) have never been better.  Our sex life is amazing.  Our friendship is even more solid than before and we’ve always been best friends.  He no longer comes home pissed and stressed out about that “stupid company.”  The overall demeanor of the household has lightened and become so happy.  I feel so blessed to be where we are right now.  I pray that he never has to return to a “real” job and can stay home with us forever.

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Hello world!

Uncategorized

Welcome to WordPress. This is your first post. Edit or delete it, then start blogging!

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Organized Discombobulation

Mr. Tolerable, My life

Have you ever head the saying, “An insane person never questions their sanity?”  If that’s true I must be the most sane person on the planet because I question my level of lucidity daily.  It doesn’t help that I recently decided I no longer need to be on the antidepressants that were prescribed to me when I was going through infertility treatments.  It was a hard time in my life and I found myself in a dark hole.  The medication helped tremendously.  Now, however, I am the blessed mother of two beautiful, healthy little rug rats.  My thinking was that I no longer need that medicine.  But, being the “jump first look later” woman I am, I just stopped taking it.  Fast forward a week or so and I was suffering from nausea, headaches, exhaustion, and moodiness.  When these symptoms didn’t go away and the home pregnancy test alleviated the thoughts I had of pregnancy, I Google, “going off Prozac” and turns out there are all kinds of warnings about going off of it cold turkey.  Wish I would have read that BEFORE I decided to stop taking it.

I waited another week (we are now up to 3 weeks) and saw my family doctor.  Honestly though, I didn’t really go to the doctor about the Prozac withdraws, I went because my asthma had come back full force from the days of my childhood.  I had started using my rescue inhaler 4-6 times a day, using a nebulizer at night before bed, and awakened in the night with attacks as well.  They put me on Advair - all is well.  Haven’t had to use my inhaler or nebulizer once since I started taking it.  Awesome.  Anywhoooo……while I was at the doctors office I told them about how I had gone off of Prozac cold turkey.  I was warned about it but they realized it was too late for that and said that there is nothing they can do now since it had been 3 weeks.  Had I gone in when I wanted to go off of it they would have put me on a decreasing dosage regimen.  I would take a total of 2-3 months to be fully off of it.  So, their advice was to just grin and bear it - the worse was almost over. So, I still have headaches, nausea, dizziness, moodiness, and just feel like crap.

Meanwhile, externally things are not doing much better.  My father-in-law passed away last week.  I had grown to love this funny old man.  He reminded me so much of my husband that it was hard not to see how much he had influenced and created the man that I hold so dear.  Funerals, Catholic Mass, prayers, and tears followed his death but also a lot of laughter.  As my husband and his two siblings went through his belongings we were all surprised amused at the level of organization this man had in everything he had.  From cassette tapes, to videos, to his check book.  We found ledgers dating back in the 50’s!  All in order, all together in a box.  He had a plan for everything.  Nothing happened by chance - it was all planned, scheduled and well thought out.  This is one of the many traits Jim the Tolerable inherited from his father.  Thank God.  Left to me, nothing would get done.  I am easily distracted.  Fly by the seat of my pants.  And live in a sea of spontaneity.  We balance each other out.

So, getting back on the train of thought I had when I started this post - Everything is crazy around here.  If you were to look at my calendar on the fridge you would see that pretty much every day had something on it.  Then, throw in a funeral, a sick grandmother, and a social life and we have not been home more than 5 days total this month.  We all feel out of sorts and are ready to just BE HOME.

I’d love to finish this post but I have to get in the shower so we can head out of town to visit my grandmother in the hospital, then to a wedding rehearsal and dinner.  Tomorrow a wedding.

Wake me up when November arrives.

EDITED TO ADD: The night of the wedding we got the call from the hospital that my Grandma passed.  I’m a weird blend of releaved, saddened, and happy for Grandma.  I will miss her but know that she is finally with her beloved Walter.  We stayed “away from home” several more days.  Now maybe will be able to relax at home as a family for a bit.  Time will tell.

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What does your husband do?

Homeschooling, Jim the Tolerable, Mr. Tolerable, My life, The job hunt

As most of my loyal readers know (both of you) my husband left his job of 7 years selling new homes about 2 months ago.  It was hard to adjust to having him home every day.  We moms have our routines and having Daddy home usually throws a wrench in things.  But, once I realized I now have help with the kids all day long, someone to split house chores with and a man who is more than willing to cook me lunch AND dinner, I decided this way is MUCH better.  Well, if things go as planned this will be the way it is forever.  How?  Well, I will attempt to answer that question….

My husband is taking his best stab at becoming a professional horse player.  I’ll pause a minute while you let that set in and shake your head in disapproval disbelief.  Let me explain.  First of all, yes that means he will be gambling and yes that means it will be on horse races.  No, that does not mean he will lose the house or make us live in our car.  Yes, I believe he can do it.  Yes, he is good at it and yes, he has made money.  It is hard to explain how it works but I’m going to give my best shot.

Jim has been studying for a while how to do this.  Much to my surprise people really DO this for a living.  They pay income taxes on their earnings just like any other job.  It’s like professional poker players, pool, etc.  His talent just seems to be in reading The Daily Racing Form and deciphering all those crazy looking numbers and picking a winner.  He calls it his esoteric set of figures.

What he didn’t really know how to do was manage his money like it is a business.  Even if you are the best landscaper in town, if you don’t know how to run a business you will fail.  He has been researching different methods that people who have been doing this for a long time use and has found one that he believes in and will work.

He has a “bankroll” which is a set amount of money that he starts with.  He bets a percentage of that bank roll, only bets to win, and maintains a discipline to not bet more because he is either on a “winning streak” or “to win back losses.”  The goal of all of this is to grow the bank roll similar to compound interest.  I have told him, I am willing to see if he can pull this off because we know once his “bank roll” is gone, he is done and has to go and get a “real job.” (he hates when I say that).  So far, much to my amazement he has grown his bank roll by $1400 in 2 weeks.  He just started this method only 2 short weeks ago and so far, I’m cautiously excited.  The idea that this might actually work seems almost too good to be true.  But, for all you nay sayers out there (I know there will be some) the truth is in the puddin’ right?  If in a year Jim is still a professional horse player and we are playing our bills, living a good life, and I have my husband at home (of course, he goes into his office for several hours 4 days a week) will people be ok with it?  I am just asking out of curiosity…not that it really matters.  The big question is if in a year from now he is still doing this and everything is paid for and taken care of will I make up things when people ask me if Jim “has a job yet?”  Right now I can use the excuse that his previous employer is still paying him until around November.  That gives us some breathing room.  After that, I don’t know what I will say.  Hopefully, I’ll get over my fear of what others think and just answer proudly, “He’s a professional horseplayer.”

This is a small business adventure that we are going to take a shot at.  If it fails, we will move on. But, I believe if anyone can do this it is my hubby.  He’s the smartest guy I know and when it comes to something like this that has to do with numbers he seems to just excel at it.  I trust him whole heartedly.  Plus, I’m going to need some help home schooling these two little geniuses that took after their Dad!  I have alterier motives for wanting this to work you know…..

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National Lampoons Camping Trip

My kids, My life, Parenting

Never before have I had more of a respect for Clark W. Griswald as I did this past weekend.  I am always trying to make sure my family and I have a good time but sometimes life gets in the way.

The husband, kids and I packed up the camper/travel trailer, the SUV and our expectations for fun and headed north to Speedway, Indiana.  The racing capital of the world?  Where they race the Indy 500?  So, you’ve heard of it?  Good.  This Sunday was the first motorcycle race at the legendary speedway in almost 100 years.  Since my husband would watch ostriches race at the IMS we had to go.  Being the sport I am I looked at it as a time that the family can get away, maybe hit the zoo or Children’s Museum and have the picturesque camping adventure as seen only in the RV brochures.

PASHA!  The first two days were the closest to hell I think I have experienced.  First off, it was humid, hot and oh yea, OUR GENERATOR DOESN’T WORK.  This is not that big of a deal except it rained and rained and RAINED (thanks to hurricane Ike).  Imagine being stuck inside a hot camper where you can’t open the windows due to the rain, no TV, no microwave, and toddlers who seem as if their shoes have springs.  Not my idea of a good time.  Jim, being the dutiful husband and father headed out in the rain and bought another generator!  I hated the idea of spending the money but I have to admit, I was beyond happy when the air conditioning hit my face and I heard the theme song from “Word World.”

Second day, more rain but that’s ok.  Jim is going over to the track to watch practice and I am taking the kids and meeting a friend and her son at the Children’s Museum.  What a great day this will be.  When I arrived at the museum I turned into a parking lot that was only for school buses and handicapped vehicles.  As I am attempting to leave said parking lot a woman who obviously takes her job as security very serious flags me down.  I roll down my window and she says,

“You are going to cause a WRECK!  You went the wrong way all the way through this parking lot!”

Playing a sheepish stupid girl I say, “Oh, I’m sorry - I’m just trying to get out of here and over to the parking garage.”

Angry rent-a-cop: “Well, back up, go down THIS aisle and exit THAT exit.  Cross the street and you will find the entrance to the garage.”

Me:  “Oh, OK.”

Rent-a-cop:  “Be careful and don’t cause a wreck!”

I back my big ol’ Excursion up and try to do the right thing.  Evidently I didn’t see the curb and ran right over it as I went down “that” aisle.  I didn’t even look back at the evil woman and I felt my face flush in embarrassment.  I can only imagine I looked like Big Foot crawling over cars as my head just about hit the ceiling as I bounced around inside.  I should have seen this as a omen of things to come…..

Once inside the museum, Val and I watched the boys run around the Dynosphere looking at the skeletal remains of a T-rex.  Sam was showing Jackson all the cool cubby holes and hidden treats.  About 40 minutes into this dreamlike outing I turn to get the stroller (where Alex was) to head to the train exhibit and Jackson has disappeared.  My heart stopped.  I just knew this was not good.  That kid is the fastest thing this side of the Ohio.  I was right.  Frantic searching by both me and Val yielded nothing.  As each second went by I could feel my level of anxiety rising.  Val says, “Follow me.” and I’m try my best to do just that.  But, let me qualify this by saying Val is one of those sick people who actually run for “pleasure” so the speed at which she twisted through the Egyptian catacombs exhibit left me panting behind her and trying to just catch a glimpse of her shadow so I didn’t lose her trail.  She leads me to a security officer who has the bright idea to help me search for him.  At that moment I wanted her to call the head of security, have all the doors locked, and have every single person in that place look for the “little boy with a grey shirt that says ‘my Dad rocks.’”  But, we searched the floor AGAIN and she finally called head of security.  Now this is where my memory gets a little foggy - maybe I was in panic, shock, whatever.  But, the head of security who has an ear piece in his ear says, “There is a code Adam matching this description.  I’m with the mother.”  Silence as he listens to the other end.

Then he says, “Is your little boy wearing a grey shirt, blue jean shorts and loves race cars?”

“Yes! Where is he???”

“They are going to bring him to the concierge desk.  Follow me.”

I get there and wait, wait……head of security again is obviously listening to someone talking in his hear and then he turns to me and says, “It seems they are having a hard time getting him to come with them.  I’ll just take you to him.”  I’m confused by what all this means but at this point all I want to do is see my son, hug him, smell his sweet hair and ring his little neck!  We go up to FLOOR 4. That’s right, the little monger got 3 floors away from me!  We step off the elevator and what do I see?  Jackson sitting inside an Indy car.  It seems he wouldn’t let any of the security take him out of “his” Indy car.  When he sees me he says with the utmost excitement, “Hi Bobby, I in a racing car….a Indy Car!!!”  So proud of himself.  I scoop his butt up out of that car hug him so tight and hold back the tears then through clinched teeth I say right in his ear, “Don’t you ever run away from Mommy again or I’ll spank your butt so hard your head will spin.”

After all of this it was hard for me to relax and enjoy this wonderful museum.  It was fun though.  I just had that adrenalin rush and such a rush is hard to come down from.  Val stayed with us for about another hour.  We saw the rest of the “kid friendly” parts of the museum.  Jackson saw it all from the safe haven of the stroller, much to his chagrin.  Then Val and Sam left when it became painfully obvious it was time for Sam’s nap. LOL.  I went ahead and stayed at the museum and saw the rest of the museum..another hour or so.

The trip back to the camper was uneventful - no curbs were harmed.  No rent-a-cops angered.  Kids all safely strapped into car seats.  I did get lost for a bit but a call to Jim got us headed in the right direction.  At the camper Jim and I realize we are about out of milk and other such staples.  He heads to the grocery store while I stay back with the kids to feed them.  While I am trying to microwave their chicken nuggets the NEW generator pops a breaker.  I head outside to flip the switch.  While I’m out there our neighbor comes over and says, “I thought no one was here so I turned your generator the other way - it’s just so damn loud.”  I explain how it was an “emergency” buy.  How our “quiet” generator went out and this was just the one they had at Lowe’s.  He was nice about it but made it clear that he didn’t like the noise.  I turn, flustered and embarrassed for the 3rd time today when my hand pops off the door handle.  It is LOCKED.  Jackson was able to reach the door from him high chair and just my luck, LOCKED ME OUT.  No keys, no cell phone, no patience.  I just sit down on the step and hold my head in my hands.  You would think I would just sit there and cry but all I could do was laugh.  I hang off the hand rail and do some sort of contortionist back bend to see into the trailer.  Jackson sees me and smiles, “Hi Bobby…what cha doin?”  “Unlock the door Jackson.  UNLOCK THE DOOR!”  He fiddles with it a bit until finally, success. I am inside.  When Jim got home he and I had one hell of a fight.  I cried, he apologized and we both agreed tomorrow would be (had to be) better.

It was.

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