I'd go Amish, but they use cell phones, too

So, this week started innocently enough. A good day at work, great cardio class, I got serious about a training diet and (for once) didn't blow it. The week was off to a wonderful beginning. And even better? It was a 3-day work week, since we are heading out Thursday for a family camping trip -- a "last hurrah" of summer, before college classes begin for Tyler, and the rest of the kids head back to school.

Then, Monday afternoon rolled around.

School registration for Jack, Charlie and Sam. The school didn't have the A/C on, and it was hot. Africa hot. As in, "this-should-be-considered-a-warning-you-are-about-to-enter-a-circle-of-hell" hot. Whatever. We handled everything fairly quickly... at least moreso than I had anticipated. Then it was off to the high school to help Kate. It had just started raining when I got there, but shuttled Bobby and myself into the school ASAP. We got hit with a few raindrops, but no major downpour. At some point in the following two hours, I set my Palm in the stroller cupholder, just in case, so I could hear it if Jeff called. Apparently one of the few raindrops landed in said cupholder, puddled together and proceeded to fry the living s**t out of my phone. Fabulous.

Throughout the next 24 hours I silently lamented the loss of, ... well... everything. Did you hear me, people? Everything. Contacts, phone numbers, addresses, birthdays, anniversaries, notes, shopping lists, the list goes on. And for a brief time, I was absolutely sick over the possibility of having lost hundreds of photos. Irreplacable photos that I should have transferred to the computer, but hadn't. Luckily, Jeff managed to pull the memory card, and there they were. Safe and sound.

In retrospect, I should be ashamed of myself, getting all worked up over a simple piece of electronic equipment. But wouldn't any other person get just as freaked out if their cell suddenly curled up and died? With as many people I know who use their phones for much more than making phone calls, I would tend to think I am not alone. Still, I feel like some spoiled brat, pouting and being all bajiggety over a phone.

A year ago, I was caught running a 5K in a monsoon, and my phone freaked out when it became waterlogged. You would have thought I'd learned my lesson then. You would be wrong. I swore then I should just go Amish and shun all things electric, bright and shiny.

Then you see a buggy pull up at Meijer (yes, I live in borderline Amish country) and see the dad chatting away on his cell phone, and you realize there's just no winning.

A short while ago, a friend posted the following on her blog, relating to a Facebook post which warned of her mood that day: “Warning: I am crabby today. Like I could eat small children for breakfast. That is all.”

I was having one of those mornings today, when all I wanted to do was continue sleeping – but my alarm had other plans for me. As I rolled out of bed and got my “grump” on, I began noticing various things in my path that both shocked and astounded me. I see these things every day, but somehow saw them with fresh eyes today.

Case in point:



People, do you see the number of toothbrushes? If you can’t see it clearly, let me point out there are 12. These constitute the kids’ toothbrushes. I do not have 12 kids, although some days, holy hell it feels like it. There are currently five toothbrushing kids and 12 toothbrushes. (Bobby brushes with supervision, so his toothbrush lives with mine and Jeff's in our bathroom.) Believe me, while we enjoy cavity-free check-ups, no one brushes so often as to require more than one toothbrush.

Oldest son (18) had three friends stay over last night. I’m sure the video game-playing stretched into the wee hours of the morning. When Jeff, Bobby and I came down to the kitchen shortly after 7am, all was quiet. I peeked into the den and saw a boy-foot hanging over the back of the sofa. It’s entirely likely no one will move until well after 10am. Maybe even noon. Regardless, I am at work, and Jeff gets to deal with it. But I digress…
These boys are headed to college in a few weeks. And while one might wonder if kids are ever truly prepared to leave for college, I saw this in my kitchen sink:

A bowl of Ramen noodles.
They are ready for college.

Snapshots of Randomness: Or, What You Rediscover When You "Clean Out" Your Phone

I admitted a long time ago -- publicly, even, in a magazine article -- I am a packrat.

I acknowledge it. I own it. I embrace it.

This past Monday, I got to play "Executive Traveler" and took the company jet to our offices in Greensboro, NC. My agenda for the day consisted of five hours' worth of meetings and a tour; then I stepped back into reality, catching a 4:45pm commercial flight from Greensboro to Cincinnati, then Cincinnati to Fort Wayne. During my three hour layover in Cinci, I treated myself to dinner, then settled in with a Starbuck's soy latte to await my boarding call. I began looking back through old photos, and realized I had a whole lotta. Many of these photos were taken with the sole purpose of appearing here on the blog, but -- for whatever reason -- never made it.

Until now.

Here, we have Jack and Charlie and their good friend, Coleson, posing in front of the Barbie exhibit at the Children's Museum in Indianapolis. The Indy field trip in May included a great tour at the State Capitol, followed by an afternoon at the museum. If you think this photo will make them cringe when they are 16, rest assured... I have more. And video of them dancing --with the girls from their class -- in the Barbie Fashion Show exhibit. Hello, Blackmail.

Next, we have Seamus McPimp, a.k.a. Jack. This is what happens when you agree to buy the boys some St. Patrick's Day garb to wear to school. I never had the heart to tell him I ended up seeing the exact same hat, worn by a 7-year-old pageant hopeful in an episode of "Toddlers and Tiaras." (And, by the way, we were at Wal-Mart. I'm sure not one shopper batted an overly-mascara'd eyelash at a 10-year-old boy dressed like an Irish pimp.)

Here is the company jet I got to ride in. I went totally tourist and had to snap a shot as we walked over to board. I sent the photo home in a text so Jeff could show Jack, Charlie and Sam. He reported they were impressed. :)

Still cleaning. More photos to come.......

Deep Sea Adventure

Last Friday, we had a friend and her family over for dinner. She said she'd be bringing dessert. Fabulous. Want to know what else she brought?

Octopus.

Yes, you read that right. Octopus. Or, I should say, octopi... since it was a little plastic container with several of the little eight-armed/legged creatures inside.

They weren't pets. They were snacks. Well, I'm sure the grocery store intended them to be snacks; however in my house? They were something akin to a Ripley's Believe It or Not episode. The kids all peeked and poked at them. Then we put them in the fridge (for fear they'd start to stink) and went about our evening.

Later, after Lindy and family left and we were cleaning up the kitchen, we re-discovered the octopi in the fridge. One of the kids hadn't seen them yet, so we cracked open the lid on the container yet again. As I told Lindy, the "dares" started flying around, and before we knew it, we were all chewing on an octopus leg. (Except Charlie, who stared at us like we were insane. He may have been right.) And the only reason we didn't try the entire octopus, was because on the way over, Ryan tried one. I can't even re-document his experience, because it makes my stomach flip every time I even think about it. (You can click on Lindy's site from the link above and read it for yourself.)

Verdict? It tasted like a rubber band soaked in teriyaki sauce.

Funniest comment was Sam's, when afterward, he came up to me and said he was sure he had a tentacle caught between his teeth.

Not to be forgotten...

Congratulations, Sam and the entire Garrett State Bank team!

2010 Clemente division CHAMPIONS!

(Technically, this should have run before the previous post, as Sam's team won their championship three days before Jack and Charlie did. My apologies, Sam.)

"WEEEEEE ARE THE CHAMPIONS, MY FRIENDS..."

Despite Freddie Mercury absolutely spinning in his grave with my rendition of "We Are the Champions," I am proud to say Jack and Charlie's baseball team won their division tournament tonight. They won against the team that placed first in their division, with J&C's team placing second. It was an epic battle, ending with a score of 11-5 in our favor. It was a truly amazing game, played well by young men who have grown from simply a "group of boys" into a TEAM throughout this season.

It was worth all the cross-town treks for practices and games.

It was worth sitting on bleachers in hell-hot sun, sweating and frying my skin to a crisp.

It was worth getting drenched as we ran to the cars, after black skies ripped open and dumped on us.

It was worth all the 11pm loads of laundry to have uniforms clean for the next day's game.

It. Was. Worth. It.

Quite possibly the cutest shoes ever made...

Technically, these are knock-off Crocs. But when you see these adorable little rubbery crocodiles, you can't help but call them CROCS. (Thank you to the JumpingBean company and Kohl's for providing this adorable addition to Bobby's wardrobe.)