{karma}

I love this child.

His picture frequents this blog more often not because I love him more, but because of the four children, he is simply quirkier. This is my new blog word...my husband used this word to describe me. I think it fits, OK, I know it fits and I think I'm rubbing off on my family. Please refer to the John Deere birthday hats in the previous post. BUT FOR NOW, LET'S TALK ABOUT THIS PICTURE.

Plain bad luck is also a trait of mine that has been passed on to Jake. You see earlier in the day I was in the school office on "official" PTO business (do you think maybe I need a job?). Anyway, there I was conversing with one of the secretaries when who should appear in the office with the P.E. teacher??? BINGO. He was in some sort of trouble and was spending a portion of his recess writing a letter of apology. I gave him my best mad mom glare and promptly turned my back to him for fear he would see me LAUGHING! Seriously now, how bad can his luck be? The one day he gets into trouble his mom just happens to be in the office. I'm sorry Jake, you probably won't ever win any major contests either.

The P.E. teacher explained that during their skating party, some boys had formed a human slingshot and Jake had been "shot" into a girl and knocked her down. So why was my child the only one in the office? Yep, plain ole bad luck! Of course, I did not let him see me enjoying this moment. Every now & again I would turn and make glaring eye contact with him. By the end of the 7 minute apology letter, he was near tears. I know, I know I'm a cruel mommy. He started to walk away without so much as a "sorry mom" when he made that fatal mistake of turning around and making eye contact with me one more time. That did him in! I walked into the hallway to reassure him we would discuss this at home and there was no need for chin quivering at the moment, he could save that for later. Again, I know I'm cruel, very, very, very cruel.

He went his way and I went home after another good laugh with the secretaries. They too realized that a bad luck cloud lurked in every corner near my child. I got home and relayed the story to George who was a bit indignant that the child had gotten into any type of trouble at all for what appeared to be an accident. Can you accidentally form a human slingshot? Hmmmm....

After having another hearty laugh about the child's bad luck, my cell phone started ringing in the all too familiar "school ring". Oh no, not more trouble. Well, no it wasn't more trouble, it was the nurse telling me Jake had accidentally crashed into a pole. Crashed into a pole? Are you kidding? Crashed into a pole minutes after I had placed the fear of me into him? Why, why? Now I felt horrible! Leave it to him to ruin my fun. Apparently, while playing some ridiculous turtle football game on the playground, several kids had collided sending Jake flying face first into a pole.

Hours later, this is what he looked like. So no, no, he didn't get into trouble when he got home for the rollerskating incident. Karma got him instead.

{you be the judge}

This is my idea of FUN!

Birthday tractor fun!

How creative can you get with a party hat fun!

Can you blow ALL the candles out with one breath (and Mikayla's help) fun!

Open your presents fun!

Again simple, maybe slightly quirky, but still FUN!! Do you think I'm rubbing off on them?

{the hunka turns 40}

This will be a simple entry because like with George, a few words go a long way! He’s 40 today and I love him more than when I met him 8 years ago. The time he spends with us is truly the best of him; he plays, he cooks, he helps with homework, he does laundry….he fights fires. Woohoo I love that last one! But to say that this man is an integral part of who I am is not saying enough. We combined our lives with the highest of hopes for a solid family that would be “built to last” and what we have now is diamond tough. I would not be the person I am today without him. I loved you when you were 32 and I love you more now that you are 40. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

.

And now for the traditional birthday poem (he gets one just about every year).

Turning 40 isn’t so bad.
Look at it this way, you’re younger than my dad!

So what if you are no longer a young lad,
You have Richard Gere gray and that’s really rad!

Celebrate today like it’s a new fad,
Just please don’t wear those new shorts of plaid.

Be happy, be cheerful, be really glad,
because today you get to eat cake like mad!

(Tomorrow you’re going on a diet for Pete’s sake, you’re 40 now you have to take care of yourself!!)

{hottest teacher no more}

Many, many years ago, I won something special. I never really shared this information because I am a private kinda person and I certainly wouldn’t want to brag about my awesome breathtaking luck. But, seeing that I am getting older (or so I’m told) and I’m trying to become a more open person, albeit through a blog, I’ve decided the time has come to share my prize or at least the story of my prize.

So here it is-- the story I must share…..in 1997, while I was happily teaching at Westmont H.S., I was voted the hottest teacher in the school by the graduating class!!!! This honor was bestowed upon me at an all school assembly. Yes siree bob that’s right, teachers, counselors, kids and the principal (who now happens to be a superintendent in Antioch) were all witness to the fact that it is possible for a person to go from the color of pasty olive to pink to red to maroon and still walk across the stage to get her computer generated certificate!!!!

But my embarrassment is not why I choose to share this story now. The real reason is this…. while talking to my friend Shellie this morning, she happened to mention that her high school son thought I looked “old” in my profile picture on this blog. Don’t bother looking----it’s gone! Trying to cushion the blow, she quickly added, “He said you don’t look old in real life just in the picture.”

Hmmmm….really? What in the world did that picture magnify that can’t be seen in real life? There goes my modeling career! Unless of course I want to model for AARP! So what’s an aging woman to do?

Botox??? It is quickly becoming a consideration, but I’m already addicted to Diet Coke. So that option is out for now….although I may feel differently as the aging process continues!

Do I crawl into a hole, never post a picture of myself on the blog again and refuse to be seen in public, at least by high school age kids?

No, no those options just aren’t me. I know! I’ll tell the world about my prestigious award AND share my 1997 teacher ID picture that won me that honor as confirmation that I once was cool! Now don’t be jealous, it was many, many, many years ago and apparently the high school generation of this year would not bestow that same honor upon me now! Ahhh, I can at least revel in the memories!! This one’s for you Rusty!

{an unlikely hero}

…..but first a history lesson. In the year 2001, George & Gina were married thereby merging their powerful sovereignties. This merger resulted in many people living in an itty-bitty kingdom. “Why must we suffer so?” the queen would often inquire. “Aaahh, but to suffer makes the inner soul grow stronger” the king would reply. He was consequently demoted to jester as his comment resulted in my hearty laughter. See even my fairy tale history lessons are a tad twisted!!

What was really going on was this. We got married and moved into his teeny-weeny 2 bedroom 1 bathroom ranch house.

Was there a basement to which we could banish the children? NO.

Was the one bathroom spacious enough to house 6 people attempting to get ready for church? I DON’T THINK SO.

Was there enough privacy for a hard-working English teacher to put her make-up on and make it to her first period class? I THINK NOT.

Quite often, my make-up session would be interrupted by two boys playing Light Saber with their pee streams. Trust me, this is a true story.

I did manage to handle all of the shortcomings of the teeny-weeny house because, well frankly, I was madly in love! However, there was one bathroom shortcoming which I found completely intolerable. And that is why this is my new hero.

We literally had to take four minute showers in order not to run out of hot water. It was enough to bring this hot shower lovin’ woman’s tolerance to a shrieking halt. The following are some of the comments that really did escape my mouth during those harsh years of the itty bitty water heater.

“Ummm, what do you mean we’re out of hot water? You just got in!!
I’m going first from now on AND YOU’RE GETTING YOUR BUTT TO HOME DEPOT AND GETTING A BIGGER WATER HEATER!!!!”

“I don’t care if you have soap in your eyes, turn the water off!”

“I’m flipping the 3 minute hourglass timer RIGHT NOW!”

OH and this is me at my best:

“If we run out of hot water before I get in, you’re all taking showers in the back yard with the hose tomorrow!”

Whew, I’m startin’ to get the sweats from these flashbacks! Let us concentrate on my much happier current life.

Today:
Four mini hot water hogs took four sweltering showers AND YES, amazingly, I still had enough hot water left for my luxurious, uninterrupted (not really, but I can hope) 15 minute steamy shower!

I love my hero!

{fleeting moments}

Today this kid asked for an IM account.

Today I said no.

Today he questioned me.

Today I answered like this:
I know what goes on at this stage of the game. I like your friends, but I love you. I would hate for you to get into an inappropriate conversation and give in to peer pressure just to fit in. You’re a funny, witty kid & there is so much to experience out there. Let’s leave IM out for now.

Today he responded:

O.K.

Mom, I love you. You’re so smart. You help me so much.

Today I cried with gratitude.

{meet the family-lone star edition}

Most often you will read about my mom & sisters as they are more local and much easier to make fun of! However, there is a whole other side that I don’t see as often, but are just as much fun to write about….they are the Texas relatives!

Did you know????

*Texas is the only state to have the flags of 6 different nations fly over it. They are: Spain, France, Mexico, Republic of Texas, Confederate States, and the United States?

* More wool comes from the state of Texas than any other state in the United States?

*You can walk my non-Spanish speaking husband, George, across the border from Brownsville, Texas into Mexico and then pretend to not know him and walk away?? But I digress.

*I have a dad George, a brother George, an uncle George and a cousin George? With the exception of my brother, they all live in good ole Texas! Ridem' cowboy!!

There is probably some deep psychological theory attached to why I married a George as well, but we won't delve into that today!!!

So for today, we shall spotlight George......my dad, George that is & his very cool Columbian wife, Geovany.

He is a retired postal worker, who managed not to go postal but instead moved to Brownsville, Texas where his biggest decision of the day is do I water my grass while I smoke my {very unhealthy} cigar or do I golf?

OR

Lose the cigar Dad!! Pretend you're a firefighter & hold that hose with two hands!!!

Now my dad does manage to keep himself busy doing other things............. hmmm...what would those retired things be? Fishing, fishing and more fishing!! He is actually a Catholic deacon too who can write one mean sermon; which may I add I heard plenty of growing up! Oh wait, those were lectures...is there a difference??

He did finally settle down & married the best Columbian cook around. George (my George) craves her gourmet Columbian rice. She was going to teach me how to make it until I found out it involved a pressure cooker. Now, I'll cook "under pressure" but I don't think it's a good idea to combine cooking & real pressure. It scares me. And this leaves my George dreaming of the good ole days when Geovany lived here and made rice just for him. She really made the rice for holiday gatherings but my George convinced himself she made it just for him.

Here she is holding my newest sibling which brings my brain to another pychological quandary.

Why is it now that they are empty nesters they feel the need to adopt new siblings and pamper them and make them exquisite doggie meals? Seriously, this sibling is undoubtedly more pampered than I ever was!!

Please note, I'm not calling the new sibling by its name as I am not quite ready for that yet!!!

So there you have it ~ my dad, Geovany (the most awesome cook) and the sibling

direct from the

Lone Star state of Texas!!

{repentance}

Well that didn’t take long did it? I must now repent for my sin of gloating.

What I left out of {gloaters} was the reason George backed into his brother’s truck. He was rushing to leave on a fire call! There I’ve said it; the weight has been lifted! Whenever George is in Richmond and not actually at the fire department, he is on “call” which results in him having to rush off anytime the pager says so! I’ve secretly thought about turning it off sometimes (not such a secret now), but he also receives text messages to his phone about 5 seconds after the pager goes off so it would be pointless.

So, not two days after he gave my van a sore hiney, he got a “quad” call. Essentially this means there is a fire of some sort and they need the assistance of the four local fire departments (Richmond, Spring Grove, Hebron and Wonder Lake). As he rushed out the door, he tossed me the radio, so I could listen as I sit and worry…what a thoughtful guy!! Apparently, some careless trash burning led to a fully engulfed barn fire less than a mile from our house. This is where my IV’s, many of which you have already become acquainted with, took over. As a result I ended up at the fire taking pictures. I was too chicken to get really close so I only got smoke-no flames. I wasn’t afraid of the actual fire, I was afraid that I would embarrass George. “Hey George, isn’t that your wife interfering with the firemen trying to save this barn?” Nope, I was definitely keeping my distance. So here is an example of what these guys do and they are without a doubt a special breed of brave fellers!!

This was what I saw after I evaded the police officer blocking the street. By the way, that is smoke.

Route 31 was lined with "rigs" from seven FD's! Ooooh, all those cute firefighters!!

Several hours later, this is what was left of the barn!

As part of my repentance, I must also say how proud I am of my hubby for being one of "those guys". I love you very much..............even though you're going to turn 40 really, really soon!!

Sorry, I couldn't resist! I can only be so good! Geez!!

{gloaters}

Gloating is a terrible thing!!! It really can demonstrate the uglier side of a person. I am definitely ANTI-GLOATING. That being said, please be advised this entire entry will be dedicated to exactly that…..gloating…..that horrible, ugly trait that we discourage our children from exhibiting when they win a game for example.

Mikayla is usually the queen of gloating in our household. She does not hesitate to do an “I won” dance or give a loud hoot & holler when she beats us in what was supposed to be a friendly game of UNO. See exhibits A & B below.

It is not uncommon for her victory dance to be followed by my lecture explaining the finer points of winning gracefully. It goes something like this, “Mikayla, when you win a game, it’s OK to feel good abo “WOO, WOO, I WON…..I’M THE UNO CHAMPION OF THE WORLD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

(That is her interrupting my skilled parenting lecture).

Here I think I’ll try again. “Mikayla, really I want to explain… “NOT NOW MOM, I’M DOING MY UNO CHAMPION DANCE!!”

So…. while I strongly discourage my children from gloating, there arise certain opportunities in life that cannot be ignored and call for exactly that which I so strongly discourage…GLOATING.

Right about now, you may be thinking.....

What is she babbling on & on about?

Why this sermon on the evils of gloating?

GET TO THE POINT!! Ok, ok if you insist!!

So here it is. I will now gloat, revel, take pride, triumph in the fact that (drum roll please)....

I DID NOT DO THIS!!!!

OR THIS

OR EVEN THIS!

Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh. (say it like a true grammar school cheerleader while doing Milayla's victory dance!)

Her comes MORE GLOATING…….

IT WASN’T ME!!!!!!

• I ONLY BACK UP (and slowly at that) INTO MAILBOXES & SMALLER CARS.

• I DON’T DO MAJOR ­DAMAGE!!!!!
  

• I ONLY GET HARMLESS LITTLE SPEEDING TICKETS THAT REQUIRE ME TO GIVE UP 4 HOURS OF MY LIFE AT TRAFFIC SCHOOL.
  

But hey, compared to this what’s a little ticket? (let’s look at it again shall we?)

AHHH, the joy of gloating!! Does it always feel this good? No wonder Mikayla ignores my pleas to be graceful.

Now, many of you may be wondering,

“Well, if Gina, the best driver that ever lived in God’s Country, didn’t do this, who in tarnation did????”

Please refer to exhibit C for the answer.

Yes, it’s true. This hunka, hunka burning love backed my van up into his brother’s hunka, hunka trucking truck!! AND HIS BROTHER WASN’T EVEN PARKED DIRECTLY BEHIND HIM!!! Excuse me, while I have another laughing fit! I do apologize for being so gloaty, but I don’t often get the chance. I am hahahahaha (sorry!) happy to report no damage was incurred to my brother-in-law’s truck!

So for today…. I AM THE BETTER DRIVER. PERIOD!! Gloating over. Bye.