Random Thoughts and Musings

It has been a very long time since I entered these doors. The cobwebs were so thick, I had to hire a contractor to clean them out, for fear of the monster spiders I’d find inside!

I do not know how regularly I will be updating now, but I *will* try to come in more often than once every six months!

What better way to start my blog back up than to laugh at the hilarity of Doppelganger nonsense? I went to  My Heritage after following a link from my friend @germaine, and went through the process. Most were awful and sad, and I will NOT share them because it is just embarrassing. Apparently, I am so fat I look like a man. That was … sickening, actually.

I chose to share these instead (yes, these are also recent photos of me):

it will not save the blog i typed up for thursday.

so you get nothin but this.

We all know that I do not *like* conflict. I’ll stand up and loudly state my opinion when I know people will respect it whether or not they agree with it, but if I know something is going to possibly bring on conflict, I do try to avoid it. So, it is with care and conscious that I write this blog. Most of my posts tend to be for my friends and the few family members I invite to read it - it keeps all of you updated on what is happening in the world of Devyl. So, this post will take a step away from that trend for a day.

I ran across this blog post, and found myself strangely hopeful. I, too, am pro-choice without being pro-abortion. I believe in ANY woman’s right to choose, and while I may personally feel that abortion is not a choice … I have supported several people through the struggle of having their own abortions.

I do not understand (because I have not been in the position of needing to understand) the desperation involved in the choice of performing a home abortion, birthing a baby and killing (s)him before anyone knows what happened, or abandoning a baby in an obscure place where (s)he cannot be found and helped.

Babies are helpless, completely innocent of any crime you may try to charge them with, and fully dependent on the people around them. Choosing to take advantage of this state of being, exploit this power, or deny this responsibility is cruel, monstrous behavior.

My first choice for any baby would be for the mother AND father to find a way to raise their child with love and compassion and discipline. My second choice would be for one of the birth parents to accept full sole responsibility for the child and raise him/her with love, compassion, and discipline. My third would be  the mother and/or father (working together whenever possible) to seek out and adopt to her/his/their choice of families to raise the child with love, compassion, and discipline.

(Do we see a trend here at all?)

The unexpected arrival of Willow D. Kitten has given my little family quite the shimmy-shimmy-shakeup. We were a very quiet family of three: Rascal Lee Kitten, Lil Lady, and I.

Rascal Lee Kitten, while quite rambunctious as a lil bitty 6-week old kitten (hence the moniker-turned-official name “rascally kitten”), is a very unassuming and laid back fat cat. He rather likes our quiet apartment, since he no longer has 3-5 children chasing him or kicking him or otherwise abusing him. He does miss having Uncle Mike around to enjoy some quiet time with, though. Rascal Lee simply has no need for silly-kitty games like “jump out from behind a shadow and attempt to scare you shitless,” or “hide behind couch and attack your hair,” or even “climb into the refrigerator and try to break into the turkey-drawer.”

Willow D. Kitten, however, apparently finds these games necessary. To date, he has kitten-dialed four people, sent one kittenese text to a friend, typed several kittenese messages on social networks, and even typed three kittenese emails (that SOMEHOW got sent!). He has also gotten stuck in cabinets (serves him right for climbing into my clean pots, dammit!), in the refrigerator (thank God we were simply pouring milk into a pot on the stove, then returning the carton to the fridge), in a plastic bin (teach ya to try to drag my clean sheets out for your sleeping pleasure, won’t it, kitty?), and in his cat carrier (I warned you that I had not removed the gate yet, you goober). He has left too many scratches to count - on anyone who dares enter his playpen (i.e. our apartment or anywhere else he happens to be). He has made us fully aware that the world is his oyster, which he intends to conquer!

A while back, Lil Lady and I were in the living room, watching a show. We were also watching Willow D. Kitten prance, pounce, and play his way around the apartment. Because we live in an small apartment, from the living room we can see the dining room, the kitchen, and part of the laundry room. Willow D. Kitten was chasing invisible playmates in the kitchen. I had him in the corner of my eye, waiting to see if he would try to jump on the counters. Suddenly, he disappeared. I looked over towards the kitchen to see if he’d jumped and I hadn’t noticed the movement. Only, he wasn’t there. ANYWHERE in the kitchen.

“Well, how’d he get past me? Where is he,” I asked Lil Lady. She looked around the three rooms we could see, went into her room to check, and then looked in the front hall by the door. “I have no idea. He must be hiding out.”

We went back about our business. Suddenly, I see him in the kitchen again, prancing around. How in the world? I looked at Lil Lady, she looked at me, and we shrugged. We continue watching our show, keeping a closer eye on him. Something dramatic happens, and we’re more focused on the TV than the kitten, and he disappears again. We look at each other, look around the room, and start to investigate. I’m standing in the kitchen, looking up on the counters, trying to see above the cabinets, when suddenly sharp claws swipe across my ankle. What the heck? I kneel down, no kitten. I look around, no kitten.

I walk away, and he chases me. What the HECK??? Again, I watch him as he romps and plays, and follow him as he leaves the room. Giving up, I sit back down. Lil Lady and I discuss it a bit, and she looks just as perplexed as I.

Willow D. Kitten heads back to the kitchen, so we watch closely. He prances, pounces, plunders his way over and under the soda box, grocery bags, and 1-step stool we have left in the kitchen for his playing pleasure. Suddenly, as he’s scampering around the baseboard under the kitchen cabinets, he scrambles into the corner, disappearing! I cracked up, opened the corner cabinet to confirm my suspicion, and realized the way they trimmed the cabinets did not seal off the space underneath. He couldn’t get into the cabinet, but there is plenty of play-space beneath the cabinets, for however long he fits through this three-inch triangle of space.

Mystery solved!

Now, if we could only find my good tweezers, which he stole. I do *not* want to spend $10 replacing them!!

Lil Lady is, in my opinion, an amazing daughter. And, really, my opinion is the only one who counts. *Grins* Anyway. She has not done anything to bring on this post - there was not a sweet moment or an outrageous moment. As I sit her, alone for the evening, I realize: I do not feel kid-free. I do not feel as though I have a moment to breathe since she is away for the night with her uncle and cousin. I do not even feel like there are things I should be doing now that I have some time without her.

This is not because I am stressed out or have five million things to do anyway. No.

I feel this way because she makes life so easy all the time. We have our routines, which are not routine at all. Sometimes we stay together in the living room and do things together, other days she goes to her room for some alone time and I do not see her for hours. No matter which route we choose, she is not ever intrusive, rowdy, or annoying (except in little snippets of moments … they hardly count, every PERSON has those - whether they be a child or an adult).

I do not have to necessarily schedule my life around her because she has ALWAYS been more than capable of handling herself. As soon as she was of a legal age, I was able to trust her alone in our homes, to take care of her chores, do her homework, and not get into anything that was off-limits. I could trust her to stick to limits on snacks, stay off the phone, keep the television off until her homework was completed.

There have been exceptions to this, of course. I find, unfortunately, she is easily influenced by her friends and cousins. I hope as she gains a little more confidence, this will happen less. I cannot even say it has been a “problem,” because I tend to forgive and forget fairly easily, unless a situation happens repetitively.

So, while Lil Lady is gone, I will go about my business as always … except I’ll watch fewer shows because we enjoy watching them together. And I will have to feed the cats and scoop the litter. All well-worth the knowledge that she is having one last summer fling weekend before school starts!

So, like sand in the hourglass of time, I drift continuously through my day, with no change in speed or direction.

How do we expect our children to grow up to be confident, responsible adults if we cannot stick to a simple answer?

I watched a child wheedle something out of her mom simply at continuously dogging her mother about a certain thing she wanted to do later that week. Her mom was firm in the first half hour, then began to wear down. Best of all: the kid knew it, and was telling her friend how close her mom was to breaking throughout the whole ‘discussion.’

No **must** mean NO. Otherwise, what is the point of using the word? If you think you might give in, say “maybe,” and add a contingency.

What a shame that at 12 years old, that child takes total advantage of her mother. I certainly hope this does not come back to bite either of them in the ass.

xo

I am very lucky when it comes to my daughter. I look around at other children, at the things that people say about their children, at the struggles people go through with their children … and I KNOW I am lucky. She rarely causes any trouble. We go through a few struggles every year, which I generally feel are completely normal for her age. 95% of the time, though? She’s an angel, truly.

Lil Lady has ALWAYS loved school. ALWAYS.

When Lil Lady was a baby - only about 6 months old - her father and I had to sign her up for her first daycare. I refused to use the on-base daycare at the base I was stationed at in New Jersey, so we found a lovely home-care daycare. The daycare provider was a Filipino lady (we’ll call her “Nan”), who’s husband worked at a different command than I. His work schedule started much earlier than mine, so I would often find him home when I came to pick up my precious girl. Nine times out of ten, someone was holding her - she was a cherubic little thing with wild, curly hair and porcelain skin. I was pleased to have found a family (the provider’s four children were 17, 13, 7, 3) who loved Lil Lady nearly as much as her father and I. What I also found was that having a very traditional Filipino “Ma” take care of her meant she received the benefit of home-schooling. By the time she was 8 months old, Lil Lady’s vocabulary exceeded most 15-20 month old children.

The first educational program she entered was a half-day program for 3 year olds on base in California. My command at this base was great about letting me run home 3 days a week to pick her up and drop her off at school, then run out again at lunchtime to take her back home (or to daycare, depending on whether I had a live-in helper or not). She LOVED this ’school’ and would cry on the two days a week she did not get to attend. She already knew how to write her full name, recite her address and phone number, sing her alphabet (and form most of the letters), name her colors, and count to 20 before she entered the program. By the end of the summer program, she could write all of her letters, write her numbers up to 20, sound out 1, 2, and 3-letter words, and write “I love you Mom.”

We transferred to Florida, I bought a house, and I enrolled her in a Christian school that ran a 4-year old Kindergarten program. I did not want her in a half-day preschool, because she was already advanced and I did not want her repeating herself. She was so excited to go to school every day, she woke up at 5 a.m. She would bounce into the before-school group (they met in the lunchroom - being in the Navy, I was rarely able to actually take her into class) with a huge smile on her face, smile her way through class, and come home full of sweetness. See:

How adorable is she???

I was worried that when she went to public school Kindergarten (I couldn’t barely afford the year of private school she had … there was no way I could continue that struggle through elementary school, no matter how much I wanted to keep her there), she would not enjoy class as much. I worried needlessly. No matter how much I did *not* like her teachers throughout the year, she loved them. She bonded with each and every one of them, and had the greatest relationships with the classroom helpers, too. I was blessed to have a friend who could attend her school events (again, I was rarely able to get there), so she always had someone there to celebrate her accomplishments. I celebrated again when we got home, and she could tell me all about everything she had done.

Through the years, Lil Lady loved going to school. Even on the days she was ill, by noon she would wake up from resting and say, “I am ready for school now, Mommy!” It was hard explaining to her that even if she *felt* better, she still had to stay home the rest of the day, just in case.

We moved a few more times - to NW Florida, then to Central FL, then to South-central FL. Each time, Lil Lady immediately fell in step with her classmates, made friends easily, and excelled at school. She did not always get perfect marks, but she worked her butt off, asked questions, and had great report cards.

When Lil Lady was in 3rd grade, things changed a little bit. She had been an excellent student - always at the front of class, always at the top of the grading scale. Then, we had Hurricane Charley, and our home and town were devastated. She had been doing really well at her school (she attended a year-round school), and was making strides in division and multiplication, which she had been struggling with for a little while. The hurricane had destroyed her school, and it was unable to reopen. However, the other school in town - just a couple of miles away - was brand-spanking-new, and was able to be quickly repaired and re-opened. They had made the classrooms in this school extra-large, so there was actually enough room to put one class from Lil Lady’s school into an equal class of the newer school. The teachers from Lil Lady’s school and the teachers from the newer school worked hand-in-hand in the classrooms. After about a month without any school, the children all began attending class in town. We though this was great - two teachers in each classroom! No out-door, temporary classrooms in a huge field! What a great plan! (There were *some* temporary classrooms at the elementary school, but not many; there were mostly temporary classrooms in all of the other schools.)

Unfortunately, the new school’s method of teaching was just different enough that Lil Lady again began to struggle. She was not able to get the same teachers as in her old school, because not all of them returned to teaching (some had completely lost their homes, some were just scared by the several hurricanes that blew through in the weeks after Charley and took off for greener pastures). She was still excited, however, and anxious to get back to school. The year-round schools had implemented ‘classroom changing’ for different subjects at a 3rd-grade level. I loved this, because I did not want middle school to be a shock to Lil Lady and her classmates.

Suddenly, about two months into the school year, Lil Lady became sullen and angry when returning home from school. She was miserable, her grades were dropping to just above average, and she cried when she had to go to school in the mornings. I had no idea what was going on, and I tried talking to her about it … but, admittedly, I was distracted. My (step)mother’s cancer was raging full-blast through her body, despite the months of chemotherapy and radiation. Our home (we had moved in with my Dad & (step)Mom in May 2004 when my (step)mother had been diagnosed as terminal, with one year to live) was in a shambles, our entire town was struggling, and finding work and a small apartment for Lil Lady and I was proving to be nearly impossible. We tried to make things as easy for Lil Lady as possible, and we all pitched in to try and help when she was struggling with something in particular. My conferences with her teachers were frustrating, to say the least: I was informed that as a non-teacher, they couldn’t tell me how to help her at home, because I just needed to trust them to do their job at school. I was also informed I did not have the education to be able to instruct her. The reason for these insults? I kept asking the teachers to show me how they wanted her to learn certain subjects, since she was not understanding their methods at school. I also asked for copies of math workbooks so I could go over the lessons with Lil Lady and try to find new methods to work out the problems.

I am not an educator, so I do not know why they reacted the way they did. I do know that I went to them one more time for help (Lil Lady made her first “D” - completely unacceptable, since she brought home no paperwork to indicate her grades were falling from her previous “B” level), then I called the counselor - who arranged yet another conference. They all assured me they were making progress with Lil Lady, and asked me to be patient. I had previously tried to help her by showing her different methods of working problems out, teaching her rhymes to remember the order of things, etc. She was yelled at in class for using these tools. I WAS FURIOUS. I called the principal, raised hell, and had ANOTHER conference. FINALLY, I received results: Lil Lady was assigned a tutor (why did it take MONTHS for this to happen?), who worked with her for an hour after school a couple of times a week. One month later, she had improved drastically. All she needed was a little one-on-one attention, and for someone to listen to her questions and explain what she wasn’t understanding.

In the midst of her educational turmoil, I went back to work. Shortly after, my (step)mother passed away. Shortly after that, we moved into an apartment. Shortly after *that,* my Aunt was diagnosed with terminal cancer. Too many changes, too much stress … and it was taking a toll. Her teachers, instead of giving her a few private moments when she broke down crying because she was sad a couple of days after my (step)mother died, sent her to the principal’s office because she could not stop the tears from flowing (she wasn’t even crying loudly… the tears were just rolling out of her eyes). This happened every time she got upset … and I was livid. I understand they had 20 other kids to take care of - that is part of being a teacher. But seriously, they can’t have a LITTLE compassion for the situation?

I digress. From that point on, Lil Lady struggled with school. We worked with her at home after school and on weekends. I refused to be like my parents: expressing anger at less-than-perfect grades, punishing with belts or extra chores or restriction. Instead, I tried to keep the pressure low-but-firm. I began to think about moving, to get her away from this particular school system. I firmly believed that the methods of teaching were complicating things for her, and I was positive if I could get her back to NW Florida, she would begin to excel again.

In 2007, while Lil Lady was in the 5th grade still, we finally moved. Within a MONTH, she loved school again. Not only did she finally catch up to where we hoped she would be, she began excelling again. She was taken out of the intermediate reading class and put in the regular reading class. Then, she was moved up to advanced. Her writing was still average, but her reading/retainment was definitely back on track. By the time she started 6th grade later that year, she was entered into advanced classes at the middle school. *Sigh of relief.*

Earlier this year, we moved from one town to the next. With this move, Lil Lady had to move out of her beloved middle school (the same one I attended), and into the one local to us. This was a big change, for two reasons. 1) The set-up of the school was completely different and 2) the methods of teaching are slightly different. She seemed to do well with *most* of her classes, but she started having difficulty with her math classes again. She did not get to the point of being fully frustrated, but she did start feeling less excited about going to school. I began to worry, and struggled to find a way to help her. I also struggled with finding a way to communicate with her teachers, who seemed to be bogged down and tired. I set appointments, met with them … but was rushed through a five-or-ten minute conversation, rather than being able to sit down and actually discuss the situation. I tried email, but did not receive responses. Things were *not* looking good.

This year, starting Monday, Lil Lady will be attending the brand-spankin’-new middle school. Some of her classmates from the last few months of last year will be with her, but others will have come from one of the other local middle schools. We have toured the school twice now - once about two weeks ago, when they opened the new elementary and middle schools to the whole town for touring; the second tonight.

Lil Lady picked up her schedule, met all of her teachers, and picked up her supply list. It turns out that her Spanish teacher - the one she liked most - is also her homeroom teacher. WOOT! She doesn’t have to have P.E. this year - instead, she’s taking Spanish for high school credit! She is also in advanced Language Arts 3, advanced US History, advanced Comprehensive Science 3, (regular) Math 3, and Chorus. I wish I was still in touch with her teachers from the 3rd, 4th, and 5th grade … the ones who told me she was “just not smart” and would “always struggle with comprehension” and would “never excel.” FUCK YOU, assholes. My daughter may not be brilliant, she may not be a genius, she may struggle with things … but she works her ass off in school. She sits in the front of her classes, asks questions, takes notes, and participates often. Every one of her teachers, since we moved back to NW FL (and before Hurricane Charley), has kept in touch with her after she left their classes. Tell me, is this the mark of a failure? I think not.

I am excited for this school year. I am also nervous. We are entering territories of Math that I find myself struggling to understand. I breezed through it when I was in school, but in the last 2-3 years when I have tried to revisit these equations and graphs, I get flustered and angry and frustrated beyond belief. Hopefully, this new school will have a ‘tutoring’ program of sorts, and hopefully I’ll be able to find a way to get Lil Lady back and forth to participate.

Better yet, Lil Lady is excited about this school year. She enjoyed meeting all of her teachers, she liked the setup of the classrooms, and she *really* enjoyed meeting her math teacher. He was very positive when we spoke to him about her struggles, and spent a little time with her, discussing what he expects and how he’ll help her. Woot!

Definitely an improvement. The middle school she attended last year was over-crowded. It is easy for a quiet child to get lost in the storm. Here, they seem to have things under control again. Back to smaller class sizes and open-communication teachers. DOUBLE WOOT!

*whew*

I was really just coming her to talk about orientation tonight … I have no idea where the rest of this came from, but good golly!

xoxo

BTW - anyone who caught that link up there and viewed it … those were pictures of my (step)Mom & Dad’s home … the ones on the left taken a half-hour before the hurricane, the ones on the right taken within half-hour after the hurricane. Insanity, I tell you! I wish I had gotten pictures of the town and our neighbors houses. We really, truly thought the hurricane was going to pass us by, though. It was *supposed* to make landfall in Tampa, not Charlotte county! By the time they changed landfall to our area, it was too late to do anything but prepare our immediate home and pray, since we live too far south to have any hope of getting out of the state and/or the hurricane path.

A very good friend of mine is stationed overseas right now, in the desert. I received the following email from him the other day, and would like to share it with all of you, in case you would like to participate.

I, personally, cannot do this. Maybe later, but not right now. However, if any of you would like to send a box of these supplies, I’ll be more than happy to share the address with you - please just comment, contact me via private message on one of our social websites, or email me directly (angeleyesw at gmail dot com).

I asked about being able to send money, but he and his buddies have already cleaned out the store at their location & so money doesn’t help them - they truly need the supplies.

Note: the huge ziplocks he speaks of are not as common as the 1-gallon, but they’re sturdy and will hold everything all in one place. I think they’re called “big bags” or something. They’re storage-type bags, but zip up tight!

Thanks!

Hey everyone, Ive decided to get involved with a school rebuildling project here and was hoping some of you would help too. Ive put together back to school kits as many as I could afford but we still need alot more. Below is a list of back to school supplies the kids need. If you are willing, I’d appreciate it if you could take the time to put together one or two (more if you like) of these kits and mail em too me so I can distribute them. I need them by 10 Oct 09. Despite all the horrible things I’ve seen here and even the ungratefullness of some of the people I still believe in trying to help whenever I can and the kids here really do enjoy and apprectiate these things.

1 composition notebook
1 small box colored pencils (Not crayons, they melt)
3 plain folders w/ pockets
1 blunt tip scissors
1 ruler
1 small pencil sharpener
1 large eraser
1 sipper pencil pouch
1 dozen pencils

If you could include a 2.5 gallon ziploc bag it would make packaging and delivering these kits alot easier. Also please no religious or political messages. Again if you choose to help I really apprectiate it and if not Im sure you have your reasons.

And, because I adore him, I will point out that spelling has never been his strong suit … but I love him anyway.

Again, if you would like to help out, please contact me. I’ll give you the info.
xo

First, a little Monday Meme (boredom brought this on):

What day of the week is today? uhm, Monday …

Spell it out with words that describe you: moody ornery nurturing devilish angelic yawning.

Name a musical artist for each letter of the day: McGraw, Tim; Offspring; NKOTB; Duran, Duran; Ace of Base; Yearwood, Trisha

(I just put the first musical artist that came to mind … that does not mean I actually *listen* to them!)

Second, a few wishes, a little earlier in the week than usual:

I wish for things to go well for Adelle’s dad (he has an appointment tomorrow, he’s fresh on my mind).

I wish for VelvetVoice to feel better soon … her back gave out earlier because she’s been overdoing it with the unpacking/organizing/etc.

I wish for BFF’s appointment to go well tomorrow … either she carries the gene that caused Baby S’s cancer, or else Baby S just had a mutated gene. The latter is the better option, all around.

Love to all.

We checked the internet, the weather channel, and called the water park this morning. All agreed: 90% chance of rain.

Despite the warnings of a tropical storm headed our way, we decided to hop in the car and drive down to the water … and over to the water park. We have been itching to get to Big Kahunas for weeks, and soon they’ll be closed!

The day turned out perfect: We arrived at the park around 11, hit the lazy river immediately. The thick layer of grey clouds parted, and the sun broke through brightly. Lil Lady hit the slides, I hit the lounger with my book and determination that the back of my legs should NOT be ghost-white while the rest of me had some semblance of peach coloring happening.

I read, Lil Lady checked in every so often and hit the slides the rest of the time. Bossbro did the lazy river with us, grabbed his book, and hit the shade for a bit.

Just as I began thinking about being thirsty, a huge clap of thunder caused me to look at Bossbro - and he to look at me. “I think that’s our cue,” he said. I expressed the hope that Lil Lady would check in soon … and suddenly there she was in the lazy river calling out, “Hi Mom!”

We packed up, got to the car, and drove out of Destin just as the rain started falling. We stopped for subs for lunch, then headed home. Luckily, the rain waited until after we were safely tucked into BFF’s house before it started falling. It even broke long enough for us to come home later in the evening, rain-free.

Life is good. Tonight the TS should hit properly. I hope we get plenty of rain and minimal damage.

xoxo

This should technically be a “Sundaes are for Sharing post … but I didn’t want to wait to share it.

I have absolutely no idea where this day disappeared to, I just know it seems to be over. I woke up this morning, full of intention on doing this and that and the other. I even showered, dressed … I ate breakfast, I grabbed my key, and then …

Sat down. I powered up the computer, make a few comments on my social networks, checked and replied to email, finalized a few documents, looked a few things up.

I still had a few minutes to kill while I waited my phone to back up. So, I headed back to Cake Wrecks (holy COW have you BEEN to the Cake Wrecks blog?) to re-read a few of the posts I read the night before and maybe read one or two new ones too.

I look at the clock, and four hours have passed. FOUR - count ‘em! ONE-TWO-THREE-FOUR!!! How does that happen? Go, take a look at this. And this. And, maybe, this. Browse a few more posts on your own. You cannot just look at the cake pictures - you have to read the whole post (I read the posts themselves, but not any of the comments), because Cake Wrecks owner Jen and her hubby John are Witty (yes, … with a “capital W” !!!!! … ), and must be read. Must! (Enough erroneous punctuation, Jen?)

Once I realized I had been at it for FOUR HOURS, I made lunch (popped pizza rolls in the m/w for Lil Lady), grabbed some sweet tea, and got busy. Reading more Cake Wrecks posts, of course! I was lost for another XX hours (I refuse to admit how many more hours I spent on the CW blog) when I realized I should probably feed my child. And check in with a few people by phone to make sure our plans are set for tomorrow. Except … I cannot call one of them this late. *Whistles softly*

Go on. You know you wanna!

(Thank you to April for pointing me in the direction of the Cake Wrecks website … I am sure I wasted several more hours than she did reading the blog, but we’ll both refrain from admitting exactly how many hours were spent crying-from-laughter in the last 24 hours.)

This morning, Lil Lady and I headed to the local park that has a water-play area for the kids. BFF was already on her way with the daycare kids …

She called to ask if I could go by her house and get the diaper bag, because Baby S was busy making a mess. Sure, no problem. By the time I showed up, she had borrowed wipes from another mom and was *trying* to clean up the baby. Trying. It was EVERYWHERE! Up her back. On her legs. On her tummy. On her clothes. On the towel BFF had laid down before trying to clean up the mess. All over a half dozen wipes. On the baby’s hand, because she wouldn’t keep still for three seconds much less the five minutes they’d been trying to contain the mess. Ew! *shudders*

Yes, that *did* need to be shared, dammit!

I left Lil Lady with BFF and headed south ‘into town.’ This really means I was driving to the next town over, about 40 minutes away. I managed to finally change my address for a few of my bills (oops! I am only a couple few five months late!), which is good because I am sure that the post office is sick of sticking yellow change of address stickers on my mail. I drove into town right on time, and whipped into the parking lot of my favorite thai eatery: Bankgkok House. Last year, when I was trying the various Thai places around town, I was complaining to my Mom about this or that, and none of them being as good as Nida’s International Cuisine in N’ville, which closed down last year. I still have not found a single place that makes Pad Gra Pao like she does … I seriously need to track her butt down and pay her to just make me a huge batch from her home kitchen!

I digress. Mom and I were on the phone one day and she asks if I have tried Bangkok House yet. You mean the drycleaner? *Insert laughter from Mom* Apparently, there is a drycleaner on one corner, restaurant on the other. She and (step)Dad used to have date nights there, and they loved it. Ask for XXX (she gave the owner’s name, which I remembered the first time I ate there, but have since forgotten). I did, and I did, and I fell in love. THIS was what I had been searching for (tho, they still do not make Pad Gra Pao as good as Miss Nida). THIS was food worth paying for!

Don’t get me wrong - a few of the places in town have good this-or-that. This place? GOOD EVERYTHING (just not-as-good-as-Miss-Nida’s-Pad-Gra-Pao .. I forgive them … nobody is perfect). So, I had invited June Cleaver to lunch, and since she has this great new job that she loves, which happens to be right around the corner from her home, and her son’s school, and the Bangkok House, she agreed to meet me there and try it out.

I have to give her credit. She tried to sound like she was enjoying the food. Unfortunately, I do not think Thai is her thing. That’s okay - I pigged out (sue me - if I was paying for buffet, I was going to get as much into my tummy as I could without making it literally burst at the seams!). I was in Thai food heaven. Green curry. Red curry. Ginger chicken (except i kept biting into ginger slices, which was *not* good), spring rolls (purrrrrrrrrrr), steak and peppers, chicken this, chicken that, chicken the other. Yum. *sigh*

About halfway into our appetizer plate (doesn’t that sound more dainty than ‘first plate piled high with everything we could cram onto it’?), BossBro showed up to meet us. He was supposed to be bringing me money, but our check didn’t get in, so he was empty handed (damn!). However, he joined us for lunch, and we had fun. I was the only one satisfied at the end, I think. June Cleaver was not particularly impressed with the food. BossBro seemed to enjoy the food, but was shocked at the sticker price ($10.02 for buffet AND sweet tea - I think it is a fair price, myself). The company and conversation, though, was good for all of us. It was a great lunch, and the only thing that would have made it better is if BFF could have ALSO been their sans children. Us adult siblings (because I insert myself as a family member in their family) rarely get adult-conversation-time without being interrupted 500 billion-trillion times by children with questions, comments, and complaints.

Today is a good day. Thanks BossBro … I know you’ll probably read this eventually. Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did (or, at least half as much!).

xo