God is really having fun with me. I'm pretty sure our house is shown in heaven as an Earth reality show called "Mom in Training" directed by and starring Landrie Hendrix with guest appearances by other family members.
Just this morning I'm sitting with my mom friend, Danielle while we wait for our two angels to have state funded speech therapy. (another topic for another post) Our conversations are random due to sleep deprivation by both of us, even though we have 30 precious minutes (with only 1 bathroom interruption by the girls) to have adult conversation. I comment that my oldest child can be completely consumed once the tv is on. His cartoon can end and the DVR may switch channels to say a Lifetime movie. He doesn't care, he'll sit and get totally involved in the life of a middle age women trying to redefine herself. (This obviously requires careful monitoring!) I had always been a little intrigued by the phenomenon. It's partly my fault, or maybe 100%. When I was pregnant with his sister he would say as a mere 2 year old "Mom, I've got a deal. I'll watch a cartoon and you take a nap!" Pregnant and 39, so what do you think happened? He watched, I napped with one eye open, life was good! What an attention span he has........
Fast forward from 8:15am to 11:30am: Landrie is chasing me around the house begging to brush and comb my hair. She's got her pink doll brush and comb. She is persistent and very cute with her progressing speech. How can I resist? 2 or 3 more household errands and I give in to her request. I find a nice spot in the floor in front of the couch and inform her to sit on the couch so she can reach my head for what is sure to be the sweetest mother/daughter moment of the hour! Can't you just see it!! She does request a cup of water for the brushing and I politely decline having wet hair.
Well, Kole got a Wii for Christmas, which is total fun. When you play with Kole you abide by the official 7 year old rules! (subject to change at any split second) So I decide to flip on the tube and play a little Wii any way I want. Mario, here I come. I'm jumping and grabbing coins and getting hidden hints....too much fun. We played Pong as children and that is the extent of my video game expertise. 43 years of being deprived of video games, I'm having a ball now. Landrie is quietly and gently touching my hair, no fussing to distract me anyway. I'm being super mom right?! She's brushing my hair and I'm allowing it. Wohoo, look out for the crazy turtle Mario! I don't know how long this goes on, seriously. I'm just having fun and Landrie's having fun. "Ouch." I say. Landrie "sorry". More Mario, run, jump, yeah baby. Then, then, then I hear the strangest noise. I have heard this noise many times. You know, the sound you hear when you're sitting in the chair at the salon. The very crisp snipping sound. I am elevated to a foot above ground and land towering over Landrie and the couch in a nano-second. Unbelievable, she has small scissors from the child-proof locked knife drawer and there is a pile of hair nearly piled beside her. It appears to be the length of the highest layer on my head. I can't find a gouge, but if you see me with spikes near my crown in a month, well now you know.
A heavenly watcher of the show clicks it off and comments "43, and one more clue discovered. Will 15 more years of training be enough for her to figure it out?" Stay tuned.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Once upon a time
Once upon a time, what I drove was a little more important for vanity reasons. I think life is that way with many things. Maybe for me, comfort just outweighs caring what other people think so much. I'm okay with that, but it also scares me that I'll get caught mowing the lawn some day, long past my bikini wearing days, in a stretched out overflowing bikini and mismatched tube socks.
I gave up the fast car for remote control doors on a minivan. Seriously informed my husband that I had "minivan envy" one day and those were my words! My back was killing me from hoisting a 2 year old in the middle of the back seat into a car seat. Why fool myself? Car seat in a car says it all, no matter what the car looks like. It was time for my sign to be a little more obvious is all.
Once upon a time I liked shoe shopping too. Then I turned 30 and my feet became aware of the fact that they were 30 too. Wearing a medical boot on my foot for a few weeks was enough to convince me that it was indeed time to go with comfort. Sketchers at least look better than that big boot. I must admit, every once in a while I see some really cute shoes with high heels and I think.....maybe? No! That shoe money would only cause pain and I would rather use it to buy a new scarf. Scarves, now there's a topic!
I had this conversation with another mom friend the other day. Seems we have both realized in the past year or so the warmth of a scarf. I used to think only old women used scarves. Who knew?! Hats, oh yes hats are good. I admit I only wear them when snow skiing, but you wouldn't catch me in a hat on the slopes 20 years ago! Oh no! No hat hair here. I'd freeze to death and get hauled down the mountain on a gurney behind a snow mobile before I put a hat on this hair. Mom always told me "keep your head warm and the rest of you will be warm too". Mom was right, again. Landrie is already protesting hats and she's only 3. Landrie also likes to pick out my clothes. That's probably a good thing given my comfort tendencies lately. Maybe she'll keep me from wearing that bikini while riding the Deere across the lawn in a few years.
I gave up the fast car for remote control doors on a minivan. Seriously informed my husband that I had "minivan envy" one day and those were my words! My back was killing me from hoisting a 2 year old in the middle of the back seat into a car seat. Why fool myself? Car seat in a car says it all, no matter what the car looks like. It was time for my sign to be a little more obvious is all.
Once upon a time I liked shoe shopping too. Then I turned 30 and my feet became aware of the fact that they were 30 too. Wearing a medical boot on my foot for a few weeks was enough to convince me that it was indeed time to go with comfort. Sketchers at least look better than that big boot. I must admit, every once in a while I see some really cute shoes with high heels and I think.....maybe? No! That shoe money would only cause pain and I would rather use it to buy a new scarf. Scarves, now there's a topic!
I had this conversation with another mom friend the other day. Seems we have both realized in the past year or so the warmth of a scarf. I used to think only old women used scarves. Who knew?! Hats, oh yes hats are good. I admit I only wear them when snow skiing, but you wouldn't catch me in a hat on the slopes 20 years ago! Oh no! No hat hair here. I'd freeze to death and get hauled down the mountain on a gurney behind a snow mobile before I put a hat on this hair. Mom always told me "keep your head warm and the rest of you will be warm too". Mom was right, again. Landrie is already protesting hats and she's only 3. Landrie also likes to pick out my clothes. That's probably a good thing given my comfort tendencies lately. Maybe she'll keep me from wearing that bikini while riding the Deere across the lawn in a few years.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Pushover Mom?
Well I'm not sure my kids should read this until they are grown. Nothing X-rated mind you, so don't minimize me yet! I was having a conversation with my mom the other day, the one that is by no means a pushover. Kent had gone duck hunting and I was at home rearing children like a good wife should. Mom inquired how the children were doing with Dad gone overnight. "Fine, I say!" Then I add "Well child 1 is getting better with me. He's perfect for his Dad, but he runs circles around me and is even manipulative.I don't remember trying to manipulate you Mom. I don't know why he does this to me!" Then I share my observance of him getting near the brink of discipline and suddenly having an ailment. This stunt has possibly been overused at this point.
My ever-so-wise mother informs ME that I'm like my Dad and I'm just more tender and tender hearted. WHAT? ME? Are you kidding me? I am totally flabbergasted. I've labeled myself a few things or a lot of things in my years, but tenderhearted? pushover? Oh good grief, I am black and white, stubborn and the most opinionated person I know! How can I possibly be a pushover?!!
I am certainly thinking at this point my dear husband who's dodged cell phones and garden hoses would not consider ME a pushover. Would anyone else?( minus my children and apparently my mother) consider this possible?
I really think the jury is still out on this one. I will admit I've been towing a much tighter line with child 1 this week and his respect level has come up a notch. So all things considered maybe Nanny's do know best.
Sigh.
My ever-so-wise mother informs ME that I'm like my Dad and I'm just more tender and tender hearted. WHAT? ME? Are you kidding me? I am totally flabbergasted. I've labeled myself a few things or a lot of things in my years, but tenderhearted? pushover? Oh good grief, I am black and white, stubborn and the most opinionated person I know! How can I possibly be a pushover?!!
I am certainly thinking at this point my dear husband who's dodged cell phones and garden hoses would not consider ME a pushover. Would anyone else?( minus my children and apparently my mother) consider this possible?
I really think the jury is still out on this one. I will admit I've been towing a much tighter line with child 1 this week and his respect level has come up a notch. So all things considered maybe Nanny's do know best.
Sigh.
Monday, January 3, 2011
I'm on a roll with this blogging now!
Today I will just post a few pictures from our week in New Mexico with my parents and share a bit about that. We flew from Love Field on Christmas Eve. It was an uneventful flight for the most part other than a few friendly people REMINDING my children that Santa would be coming that night. Which of course was not in the original play book. Mom and I had conspired that they would wait until we arrived to put up a tree. That meant we would all get to traipse through the Gila in search of the perfect Christmas tree. We dreamt of sipping hot chocolate while the kids enjoyed decorating it, yadda yadda....Christmas music you know like in the movies. My kids would get to experience the whole tree deal the way it's suppose to be done. If you don't know I grew up with A fake tree (yep, same one for must have been at least 25-30 years). Now Kent and I have continued the tradition with fake trees. So, this was a big deal for us to do a real live tree.
If you don't know my parents don't live near the airport(arrive and then drive at least 3 hours of which 45 minutes is dirt road). So we got up EARLY, got the kids ready, drove to the airport. Let me add this background--we always arrive barely in time, Kent dumps me, kids and as many bags as you are allowed to check per ticketed passenger along with carry on items at curb. Then anyone within 15 feet of us helps us scoot towards the SkyCab and relays their memories of traveling with kids to me, while I continuously count in my head kids and bags making sure not to lose anyone or anything.Then Kent comes breezing back in time to tip as they haul our bags off. That's the routine. Well this year, I got smart!! I inform Kent as we breeze up to the curb that I will be taking the car to the garage this time, while he has the HONOR of escorting our 11 bags and 2 children with coats to the SkyCab. He never knew what hit him. Didn't even give him time to think about it. I was gone! (I did offer to take 1 kid for fear he'd lose one, but he declined and instead sent me with one carryon to the garage to park).
I got back to the SkyCab just in time to grab Landrie and take her for a last minute potty stop while the boys checked bag. Thinking to myself what a genius thing this was. After all Kent didn't appeared nearly as frazzled as I would've been in the reverse situation and the only thing wrong was the fact my wool coat was left in the minivan. Mom would have an extra, so no biggie. Win, win! .....errrrr, maybe not.
We arrived back at Love Field late on NYE. We had just as many bags only fuller and a board game to carry this time. Landrie and Kole were both quite sleepy. As we approached the turn for the parking garage in the airport I offered to take the kids and head across the bridge and retrieve the mini-van while leaving hubby with 1 carry on and 8 checked bags to retrieve.
Kole was in no mood to walk 1 foot let alone out to the B garage (an indoor trip). His ears had been driving him nuts for the last 10 minutes of the flight and continued to do so. (he's basically getting the suck it up and keep walking speech from me at this point). I'm carrying Landrie, wearing his backpak and carry another bag and we are all in coats of some sort. On we trudge. We look for the car briefly in A garage before I notice the Big A's all around and we march on just like little grumpy dwarfs. Moving sidewalks were mostly not moving that night. We approach minivan and think happy thoughts only to discover the remote is having zero impact on the minivan. Rutt rowww....I manually unlock it with the key and discover the doorlocks won't even do a thing. Sigh. More instructions to Kole about his whining and ear options and the consequences of one more whine. Minor victory as he follows intructions for popping ears out after hearing them for the 70th time! He smiles, probably knowing a smile might be the one last thing to keep me from completely losing it in a deserted parking garage with under an hour until the new year.
I managed to locate phone and reach Kent. Kent is somewhere with 9 bags and a Jamaican grandmother he can't understand but has decided to risk helping with his dying cell phone battery. Thank the Lord he allowed the phone to continue for a bit longer until Kent communicated with me that my knight in shining armor riding a golf cart was on the way. He just forgot to tell me the kind of individual who works the NYE shift driving that chariot of good will might be. I'm certain 3 guardian angels were sitting on top of my minivan for a few moments that night. My description after the "rescue" mission was "creepy". My sweet 6 year old informed me "you should be ashamed Mom, he just helped us". Thank you angels and Mr. NYE Creepster we did make it home albeit in 2011.
If you don't know my parents don't live near the airport(arrive and then drive at least 3 hours of which 45 minutes is dirt road). So we got up EARLY, got the kids ready, drove to the airport. Let me add this background--we always arrive barely in time, Kent dumps me, kids and as many bags as you are allowed to check per ticketed passenger along with carry on items at curb. Then anyone within 15 feet of us helps us scoot towards the SkyCab and relays their memories of traveling with kids to me, while I continuously count in my head kids and bags making sure not to lose anyone or anything.Then Kent comes breezing back in time to tip as they haul our bags off. That's the routine. Well this year, I got smart!! I inform Kent as we breeze up to the curb that I will be taking the car to the garage this time, while he has the HONOR of escorting our 11 bags and 2 children with coats to the SkyCab. He never knew what hit him. Didn't even give him time to think about it. I was gone! (I did offer to take 1 kid for fear he'd lose one, but he declined and instead sent me with one carryon to the garage to park).
I got back to the SkyCab just in time to grab Landrie and take her for a last minute potty stop while the boys checked bag. Thinking to myself what a genius thing this was. After all Kent didn't appeared nearly as frazzled as I would've been in the reverse situation and the only thing wrong was the fact my wool coat was left in the minivan. Mom would have an extra, so no biggie. Win, win! .....errrrr, maybe not.
We arrived back at Love Field late on NYE. We had just as many bags only fuller and a board game to carry this time. Landrie and Kole were both quite sleepy. As we approached the turn for the parking garage in the airport I offered to take the kids and head across the bridge and retrieve the mini-van while leaving hubby with 1 carry on and 8 checked bags to retrieve.
Kole was in no mood to walk 1 foot let alone out to the B garage (an indoor trip). His ears had been driving him nuts for the last 10 minutes of the flight and continued to do so. (he's basically getting the suck it up and keep walking speech from me at this point). I'm carrying Landrie, wearing his backpak and carry another bag and we are all in coats of some sort. On we trudge. We look for the car briefly in A garage before I notice the Big A's all around and we march on just like little grumpy dwarfs. Moving sidewalks were mostly not moving that night. We approach minivan and think happy thoughts only to discover the remote is having zero impact on the minivan. Rutt rowww....I manually unlock it with the key and discover the doorlocks won't even do a thing. Sigh. More instructions to Kole about his whining and ear options and the consequences of one more whine. Minor victory as he follows intructions for popping ears out after hearing them for the 70th time! He smiles, probably knowing a smile might be the one last thing to keep me from completely losing it in a deserted parking garage with under an hour until the new year.
I managed to locate phone and reach Kent. Kent is somewhere with 9 bags and a Jamaican grandmother he can't understand but has decided to risk helping with his dying cell phone battery. Thank the Lord he allowed the phone to continue for a bit longer until Kent communicated with me that my knight in shining armor riding a golf cart was on the way. He just forgot to tell me the kind of individual who works the NYE shift driving that chariot of good will might be. I'm certain 3 guardian angels were sitting on top of my minivan for a few moments that night. My description after the "rescue" mission was "creepy". My sweet 6 year old informed me "you should be ashamed Mom, he just helped us". Thank you angels and Mr. NYE Creepster we did make it home albeit in 2011.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Onward in 2011
Okay, so I thought I would start blogging for 2011. Turns out I've started this blog 2 other times! Did I mention I have recently decided I am ADD? More proof turns up all the time it seems. My husband kept telling me I was and I thought he was joking. Took me 8 years of marriage to finally buy into it.
I thought back on my working (for pay) days. I thought all of those people that worked with clean desks were just neat freaks. My desks obviously didn't look like that, not that you could see my desk anyway. I now know why. If it was out of sight, then it was forgotten. I am thinking now I was wise to realize that! I just didn't know why.
I know some of you can relate! How many times have you stood in your pantry with that dazed look wondering "why am I here?" Uh huh! Or how about you walk into your bedroom to go get the dirty laundry and when you pass the bed you decide to make it. You walk to the far side and lean over pulling up the sheets and see the book by the bedside. So you grab it and head for the bookshelf in the office and along they way pass through the kitchen and think "I've got to load that dishwasher"....as you lay the book on the kitchen counter, the phone rings and you grab it and hear a screaming child upstairs and away you go with phone conversation too. Skip ahead 7 hours and your husband walks in and can't find the phone, wonders why the bed is half made and the book is in the kitchen and the sink is full of dishes but the dishwasher open and the washer sitting with water and no clothes and how in the world can you be so exhausted after doing OBVIOUSLY nothing all day.
Well....sounds like a typical day in the Hendrix home to me.
Off to watch the Mavericks or at least find out from hubby how they did.
Happy New Year!
I thought back on my working (for pay) days. I thought all of those people that worked with clean desks were just neat freaks. My desks obviously didn't look like that, not that you could see my desk anyway. I now know why. If it was out of sight, then it was forgotten. I am thinking now I was wise to realize that! I just didn't know why.
I know some of you can relate! How many times have you stood in your pantry with that dazed look wondering "why am I here?" Uh huh! Or how about you walk into your bedroom to go get the dirty laundry and when you pass the bed you decide to make it. You walk to the far side and lean over pulling up the sheets and see the book by the bedside. So you grab it and head for the bookshelf in the office and along they way pass through the kitchen and think "I've got to load that dishwasher"....as you lay the book on the kitchen counter, the phone rings and you grab it and hear a screaming child upstairs and away you go with phone conversation too. Skip ahead 7 hours and your husband walks in and can't find the phone, wonders why the bed is half made and the book is in the kitchen and the sink is full of dishes but the dishwasher open and the washer sitting with water and no clothes and how in the world can you be so exhausted after doing OBVIOUSLY nothing all day.
Well....sounds like a typical day in the Hendrix home to me.
Off to watch the Mavericks or at least find out from hubby how they did.
Happy New Year!
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