Friday, April 30, 2010


And how could I forget to mention this!!!

Because of my yoga class that I've been going to, I can now do a full back bend! 

The first time I tried it (about 6 weeks ago) I could only get my hips off the ground.  My shoulder and head were another story all together.  They seemed glued to the floor.  My arms just didn't have the strength to push up and I was sure that my back would never be able to arch in such an unnatural position.  Miracles do happen my friend!  In my last class I was on the floor in the bridge position ready to push up into nothing because it has never happened, when low and behold I raised my body, arched my back and realized that I was in a full back bend!  Outbursts of joy are generally not done in a dimly lit yoga class, but believe me, every one knew what I had accomplished in that exact moment.  My puny appendages are getting some muscle and the rest of me is getting bendy! 

I love it! 


One of my weird quirks is that I prefer to have my toilet lids completely lowered when not in use.  Something about walking into a bathroom and seeing right into the toilet seems so wrong to me.  My kids close the lids out of habit just because I've always had them do it since they first learned to use the toilet.  Sometimes when the kids have friends over, the friend will use the toilet and leave the lid or lids (depending on boy or girl) up.  

It drives me crazy!

I'd never dream of turning into the toilet police, standing outside the door and asking them if they remembered to close the lids, but as soon as I notice the offense, I remedy the situation.

My other quirk is that I prefer the toilet paper to roll over the top, not underneath.  

What about you?  Is there anything strange that you do?

Thursday, April 29, 2010

The time I got kidnapped.....The Conclusion

I went back because my husband and kids were there, but why didn't I take them with me in the first place?  I don't really have an answer for that other than, you just had to be there.  

When I got back my husband was sitting on the couch with a look on his face I will never forget.  "What the HELL?" pretty much sums it up.

At this point, Annabelle grabbed me by the hand and declared that it was time to do something about my ankle.  She led me upstairs and into her bathroom.  Pointing to the soaking tub she said "Get in and I will fix your ankle for you."

"In there?" I asked, pointing to the tub.

"Yes, I'll hold the baby while you get undressed.  She can get in too if you'd like.  Then I'll massage your ankle and get the swelling down.  You'll feel much better."

"Actually, I'd feel much better going back to my house, putting my kids in their beds and unpacking."

"No.  It is too late.  I've already had your husband put your kids to bed here.  Get in."

"Even though a bath sounds wonderful and all, I'm not getting in.  I don't know you and I don't have clothes to change into or even underwear for that matter.  I'm going home now."

"You can wear my clothes and my underwear."

She really said that.  No lie.  

At this point it was probably 11 at night.  I was exhausted, my baby was exhausted and my thinking was getting worse by the minute.  I don't remember how, but I made my way back downstairs to my husband and whispered that we should get the kids and go.  As we were talking about what to do, she comes in and says "I'll show you to your room.  If you hear crying in the night please ignore it.  I sleep on a mattress in my sons room."   I didn't even know she had a son until that very moment.  

Once again I don't know what came over me.  I followed her upstairs to the room we would sleep in.  I still hadn't really had a chance to talk to my husband about everything that was going on because whenever I tried she managed to stop it.  The bed in our room looked like it had come right out of the princess and the pea fairy tale.  It was so tall, even the step stool wasn't enough to get in.  My husband gave me a shove, and climbed up next to me.  The mattress, if that's what it really was, was so soft and fluffy it was like laying on top of all of the filling from all of the pillows in a pillow factory at one time.  We sunk right in.  

We both lay there silent for a long time.  Then I started laughing.

"What is so funny."

"This!  This is crazy!"

"That's what I was thinking, but I've been trying to figure out what's been going on.  Care to fill me in?"

"She kidnapped me.  That's all I know."

"Why didn't you go home?"

That's when I told him about her bursting in our home and taking me and our baby on the longest car ride to her house.  I told him about the spots, the tub and the underwear.  He started laughing.

"What's so funny?"

"I thought you knew her.  Like she was some kind of long lost friend or something.  I couldn't figure out what you were doing, but I wasn't going to say anything.  You seemed so determined to do whatever she said."

"What!  Oh well, I guess you're right.  It's like she has mind control or something.  I didn't know what to do, you were gone when she came and I thought that the Relief Society had sent her.  I thought it was a strange welcome, but that's why I went with her in the first place.  I kinda don't think they had anything to do with this do you?"

He was laughing again, "No, I don't.  Have you seen whats in the bathroom we are supposed to use?"

"No, is something else wrong?"

"Cat litter.  Every where.  I don't think the litter box has ever been changed and the litter is all over the floor."

"I won't be going in there that's for sure.  What did she say about it when she showed you where the bathroom was?"

"Nothing.  She didn't even seem to notice that there was something wrong."

We lay silent again for a while when my husband started to really laugh.

"What is so funny?  I don't think this is very funny."

"I just thought that we are here in this wackos house, that you by the way got us into, and I'm just picturing her coming in here when we are asleep with a pick axe.  All I can think of is Jason from that movie.  Stab, Stab, Stab!"

"You are sick and wrong."

"Me?  Oh no, it isn't me, I assure you.  And what's the deal with her husband?  He doesn't talk.  He's probably scared of her too."

I started laughing so hard.  He was right!  We were in the home of someone who was really messed up. 

In the morning I got our things together as quickly as I could.  I grabbed my sleepy kids and we headed down the stairs for our escape.  Only thing is, she was waiting for us!

The table was set again in her fanciest finery.  She had made waffles, pancakes, muffins, french toast and juice.  My kids were starving and made a beeline for the table.  She started dishing up before we could say a word.  Once again, I sat down defeated.  She began to tell my son all about her plans for us.  She told him about the play, the dance recital and all of the goodies that would be there.  She pulled out a calendar and began going day by day, week by week all of the things we would do.  My sons eyes grew bigger and bigger.  The last thing she told him was, "The Saturday after Thanksgiving I am taking you to the mountains.  I have purchased our tags for our Christmas trees.  We will chop down our trees and bring them back here.  We will have hot chocolate with marshmallows.  Then we will string popcorn and cranberries."  While saying all of this to my son not only had she gotten his breakfast for him, she had pulled out all of her candy jars for him to choose a treat from.  It was like watching the old woman who lived in gingerbread house in the woods.

I had had enough.  I stood up and told my kids to go out and get in the car.  "But I haven't eaten my pancakes mom" my son said innocently.  

"I don't care.  Grab your sisters hand and go now."

My husband jumped to attention, shewing the kids to the front door.

I turned to Annabelle and said "Thank you for your hospitality.  We are leaving now."

"No, it isn't possible.  I haven't unpacked your house yet, and I haven't finished going through your calendar, you aren't leaving." she said in her still very robotic voice.

"We are going home now.  We are unpacking OUR house by ourselves.  We are not coming to a play or a dance recital.  We are not having Halloween and Thanksgiving here.  And I am most certainly not taking my new baby into the mountains, traipsing through the snow to chop down a tree."  

All of my frustration had boiled to the surface.  Her husband was staring at us, but still had not uttered a word.  I grabbed the diaper bag and followed my family to the front door.  

My son looks at me and says "Mom, she is real nice."

"No!"  I whispered, "She is CRAZY!"

My son looked at me with disbelief and said very loudly "She's not crazy mom!"  

Annabelle looked right at me.  I looked at her and turned to go out the door.  While walking to our car I remembered our pizza that her husband had picked up at our house the night before.  Turning to my husband I asked him to go get our pizza so we could have it for lunch.  He said to forget it.  I told him to go back and tell her husband to get our pizza and not to come to the car without it.  He knew I was losing it so he ran and got it for me.  Getting in the car he asked, "Why did you want the pizza so bad?  We could order another one?"

"Because, I don't know, maybe it's just that I wanted to show her that she does not have total control.  Sorry, that was weird of me, but thanks for getting it."

He laughed and said "The whole thing was weird."

We got home and not too long after there was a knock on the door.  I thought for sure it was Annabelle.  Instead, a nice looking woman introduced herself and asked if she could speak to me.  It turns out that she was the Relief Society President from our church.  My sisters friend that I had left a message for the night before contacted her and told her that Annabelle had taken us.  She sat down and told us that she owed us an apology and explained that Annabelle had recently gotten out of a mental hospital, but was still heavily medicated and one of her issues was fixating on something.  She had overheard some people at church mention that a family was moving into the house down the street from her and right then and there we became her fixation.  The people from our church figured this out, so they told her that we were coming a month later than we really were thinking this would prevent her from barging in on us during our move.  Annabelle is smart though and watched for the moving trucks.  The Relief Society President told me not to open the door when Annabelle came over and to not give her our phone number.  She said she knew it sounded mean, but it was the only way to get Annabelle to forget about us.  I told her the whole story and she felt really bad.   She said to not be surprised if Annabelle would peek in our windows when we didn't answer the door.  She told us that we had to be firm and hold our ground.  As far as knowing our house "intimately" it was true.  She had been in the house when the previous owners rented it out and had barged in a few times on them.  

We had a few more run ins with Annabelle, but eventually she left us alone.  About 2 years after moving in I had another very funny incident with her that I will share another time.  But there it is, with a few things left out here and there, the time I was kidnapped.  I laugh at myself when I think about it now.  It was a crazy time for sure.  I do feel bad for Annabelle and her family and I learned to have a lot of respect for her husband.  He was staying with her, hoping that she would break free from the mental illness that took hold of her not too long after they were married.  What a patient man. 

Thursday, April 22, 2010

The time I got kidnapped: part II

Once I was in the car, I was very confused.  You see, in my church there is an organization called the Relief Society.  It consists of the adult women in our church.  The purpose of the Relief Society is to aid, support and care for anyone in need.  Sometimes when people move, the Relief Society will organize dinners for those leaving and for those coming.  I thought in my head at this time that perhaps the Relief Society had arranged for this woman to come and help me.  Her kind of help was very bizarre to say the least, but I went with her. 

As we started to drive away I said "Wait!  My husband won't know where I am!  I have no way of getting a hold of him and he will be very worried when he gets back.  I also ordered a pizza!  I can't just leave and not pay for it!"

"My husband will come back with a note for your husband with instructions.  You will write a check and we will leave it on the door for the pizza boy."

"But, I don't want to leave the pizza on the doorstep!  That will be lunch for tomorrow if nothing else.  It would be ruined, dogs would get into it.  Please, take me back.  This is getting a little too weird for me."

"Nonsense.  I will be feeding you.  You just had a baby.  You are in no condition to put a house together.  You are staying with me for at least a month.  I will go down each day to your home and unpack one box for you.  It will be perfect.  You will then move into a perfectly organized home."  She said with a robotic like voice.

"No, that's not going to fly with me.   We really just need to get our kids settled.  They have been in limbo long enough.  Please take me home."  I should have screamed this at her, but no, I said it in the wimpiest voice I could muster.  

The way this woman spoke, it was hard to describe, but I knew that she was not going to bend or deviate from her agenda.  I wasn't quite sure what to do now.  Especially since I was in her car.  Her husband still had not said a word at this point.  

After driving for a while Annabelle (again, not her real name) spoke again.

"Thursday I will be putting on a puppet/magic show.  Admittance is free, but licorice whips are 10 cents a piece.  Lateness will not be tolerated and I will have to turn those who are not on time away.  You will be there at 10 am sharp.  That shouldn't be a problem since you will be staying in my home."  

I looked at her, waiting for her to bust up laughing.  Who talks like that? 

"Friday I will be putting on a dance performance.  Again, admittance will be free, but popcorn will be 25 cents.  I have made enough flyers for the whole neighborhood announcing my performances.  You will help me deliver them in the morning."

She handed me a flyer.  She was serious. 

"I really don't think I'll be able to help you tomorrow.  I have a really bad sprained ankle."  I pointed to my ankle.  She looked and her eyes narrowed.

After driving around for what seemed like an eternity we got to their house.  When we walked into the front I could see what would be the living and formal dining rooms.  They were void of furniture, but all over the carpet where these strange looking spots.  Tons of them!  Every few inches was a spot and I had to maneuver carefully to avoid them.  

When we walked into the kitchen, her dining table was set for a Thanksgiving feast; tablecloth, goblets, linen napkins, a centerpiece and enough food to feed an army.  "Wow, you have really been working today!"

She pushed me into my chair, dished up my plate and sat across the table.  Her husband was nowhere to be seen.  I noticed she wasn't dishing up for herself.  "Um, are you not going to eat?"  

"No!  This is for you and your family."  She looked at me like I should have already known.

"I really hate for this to go to waste.  I'm not sure when my family will get back."

"They will be here soon enough.  I left my instructions for your husband."

I ate while she stared at me.  It was uncomfortable to say the least.  I decided to ask her about the spots on the carpet.  It was totally rude, but if you saw them you would have asked as well.

"My cat.  My cat has been sick and I clean up her mess with a paper towel.  It leaves these spots and I don't know what to do."  She said in her calm robotic voice.

I started to dry heave.  I casually slid my plate away and told her that I was full and that I really wanted to go home.  

"How could you possibly get home?  You don't have a car with you."

"Could your husband take me back?"

"He couldn't.  You will wait here until your husband arrives with your children."

I waited for what seemed like hours when the doorbell rang.  I heard my husband at the door and I was so relieved!

"How did you find me?" I whispered to him.

"It's just down the street.  Why are we whispering?"

"What!  Down the street?  She drove me around for at least 20 minutes!" 

My husband and kids were escorted to the table where Annabelle dished up heaping plates of food.

"Don't eat it!"  I mouthed to my husband.  He looked at me very confused, but followed my urging and said "Oh, we just ate at the house we came from, thank you though."

At this point, without thinking, I asked my husband for the car keys, ran out of the house and drove down the street to my house.  I was so mad!  We were a short walk away!  I ran into the home to call the one person from our church that I had talked to a few times.  My sister had known her in Texas and asked her to look for me when I moved to Oregon.  She wasn't home, a babysitter answered.  I told her to please tell Kymberlee where I was and that I was in some sort of trouble.

Still not thinking clearly, I grabbed some more diapers and went back!  When I think about this story I can't for the life of me figure out why I didn't grab my husband and kids and run out the door as soon as he got there.  No, I went back.

Next time, the conclusion.  It gets even better!

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

The time I got kidnapped.....

Before you get too excited about the title I need to clarify one thing.  Yes it is true, I found myself kidnapped at one point in my life, but I was not a kid and it was not by a gross man wanting to do gross things!  This is more of a "I can't believe that really happened to you!  Even more, I can't believe you let that happen to you!" kind of a story. 

Because it is such a long story, I am going to break it down over a few posts.  We'll see how many it takes.

The time I got kidnapped: Part I

3 weeks after having my third child, my husband and I took our family on one of my favorite adventures.  We moved to Oregon.  We didn't know a soul, but we were excited.  We stayed in a rented condo for a month while we looked for and purchased our home.  I had found a home that would be perfect for us.  The neighborhood was clean and nice.  There were kids everywhere for my kids to play with.  But best of all, I could finally feel the end of a whirlwind in sight.  Keep in mind I had just sold and packed up a house while pregnant and moved with a newborn.  I was ready for some stability.

We hadn't been sure exactly how long we would be in the condo looking for our new home, but I had only unpacked the bare minimum and had the moving company deliver a futon, our mattresses, some kitchen items and a box of toys, keeping the rest in storage.  We told our kids that it was going to be like camping, and believe me it was.  

When the weekend of our final move into our home arrived I was filled with excitement.  Packing everything up as quickly as I could, I started running boxes down 3 flights of stairs to the U-haul we had rented.   On one of my last trips down the stairs I missed a step and royally twisted my ankle.  It swelled immediately and was so painful to step on that I had to hop along to get anywhere.  The thought of taking time to go to the doctor to have it looked at sounded more painful to me.  All I wanted was to be in our home, get us unpacked and sit down for once.  I decided it could wait. 

Before our move, we had phoned some people from our church to let them know that we would be moving into the area.  A few of the men offered to help us move our few things that the moving company hadn't kept, from the condo into our home.  We were so relieved.  Especially since I had rendered myself useless.  But we eventually got there and I was just in time for the moving company to arrive with the rest of our things.  One of the men who helped us move from the condo invited my husband and kids over to his house for pizza and to watch a football game.  Even though I was exhausted, I was thrilled with this idea.  It left me and my new baby alone to unpack the kitchen without any interruptions.  My husband worried about leaving me behind, but I assured him that I was perfectly fine and I would be very careful of my ankle.  He left with my two oldest, I put my baby in the swing, and began to dig us out when the weirdest thing happened....

A woman came barging in our front door shaking her hands and screaming "It's OK!  It's OK!  I belong to your church!"  

I looked at her with some confusion.  She was breathless at this point from her obviously over excited state.

"I am here to get you.  You have to come with me right now!"  she continued yelling at me.

"Who are you?" I asked, not quite sure how to process what was happening.

"My name is Annabelle! (changed for privacy of course) You have to come with me now!  I have been waiting all day!"  She still yelled excitedly at me.

"I need to unpack my house.  We just got here, it is getting late and I would really like to get my kitchen unpacked before my kids get back."

She looked at me like I was off my rocker. "I have been waiting!  And now my chicken is burning!  You must come with me now!"

"But, I don't know who you are.  I really need to just get my kitchen unpacked."  I replied with even more confusion.

"You don't need to worry.  I know your house INTIMATELY!  I have been through it many times."  She grabs my hand, drags me towards the door and says "We really need to go now or your dinner will be ruined!"

"But my baby!" I pointed to the swing.  I watched in a dazed horror as she grabbed my diaper bag, and put the baby in the car seat.  Before I could think through all that was happening she was pushing me into her car.  Her husband was in the drivers seat and didn't say anything.  He wouldn't even look at me.

(At this point in the story I need to remind you that I had just had a baby!  I was getting no sleep, I had hormones a raging, and I was so exhausted from everything that I probably couldn't have told you my full name!)

Part II tomorrow!

Saturday, April 17, 2010

Keeping up with my goals.

In the post just before this one I told you that I didn't complete my goal of finishing my book by April 15th.  After thinking about it for a while I decided to toot my own horn and tell you that I have kept up with my other goals.

Back in February I wrote about eating better, exercising and not giving up if I have a day where I fall of the wagon.  I decided that my new daily mantra would be: "Today I will.... (insert goal)."

Guess what!  I have lost 11 pounds and I have been exercising consistently.  This morning I ran 5 miles and shaved 6 minutes off of my running time.

Could I have done better with my weight loss?  Yes, but I am making progress so I am very pleased with the results so far.

How about you?  Have you kept up with some of your goals?

Thursday, April 15, 2010


Something I forgot to mention was that I didn't reach my goal (set back in Nov. here) of finishing my novel the same day my husband finished his tax season.

Yeah.  What can I say.  I have been a single mom.  

On the bright side though, I will now have a very hands on spouse so I can really get down to business!

Holy lemons Batman!.....

If you have read this post, you will know that I love lemons.  The taste, the smell, the color, it all has a positive affect on me.

Today I discovered the power of lemons!  

My son, that I adore in every way, is almost always very helpful.  However, there is one request of mine that he just can't seem to follow through on.  It is using the squeegee in the shower.  Because of this, the glass doors on his shower have been coated with hard water spots that have been a thorn in my side.  I kept telling myself that I shouldn't make a big deal about it, he won't live with me forever, but today I just couldn't stand it anymore.  I have tried things in the past to get the nasty spots off, but until now and short of using the sort of chemicals that would require a hazmat  suit, nothing has really done the trick.  I googled about my dilemma and found a suggestion to scrub the glass with a lemon that has been cut in half.  To make it extra powerful, sprinkle some salt on the cut surface of lemon.  

I decided to give it a try.

I went strait for the good stuff and used the salt combo from the get go.  After I finished scrubbing, I let it sit for a few minutes, gave it a once over again and then rinsed.

"Out damn'd spot!  Out I say!"

Voila!  They were gone.

It was magical.

I love lemons.

A little rant.....

Today in the Associated Press there is an article that you can read here.

The article is about the books that are the most complained about by parents.  Stephenie Meyer's Twilight is number 5 on the list.  The other books on the list were Catcher In The Rye, To Kill a Mockingbird, The Color Purple, IM (I have not read), etc.  (See article for complete list)

Here is how I feel about it:

First, make sure that whatever book your child/teen is reading is age appropriate.  Some books simply have too mature a theme for the advanced younger readers.  There are books out there that will challenge them, but are still appropriate.  Seek them out and be a big part of talking to them about the content.

Second, I say kudos to Stephenie Meyer.  Though her books are not literary masterpieces, she sparked a whole new love of reading in people who otherwise would not have picked up a book for pure enjoyment purposes.  I have 2 friends who had not read a book on purpose since high school, but after being convinced to read Twilight they are now book nerds, constantly reading anything they can get their hands on.  Would I let my 8 and 12 year old daughters read this book?  Not yet, but when they are older, absolutely.  (I tend to try for innocence as long as possible)

Third, see my first point!  Educate yourself about the content of books.  Read with your kids.  My daughter and I are constantly reading the same books.  Usually I read the book first and then make my decision.  My son who is older comes to me about every other week looking for something that I would suggest.  He has read Tom Sawyer, The Count Of Monte Cristo, To Kill A Mockingbird, The Golden Compass series, Les Miserable and so on, all on my recommendation. Help your child find something you think is appropriate.  But remember that what you think is appropriate may or may not coincide with another parents view on the same book.  There is nothing wrong with that! 

I just had to get that off my chest.

Favorite days...

I love April 15th!  

For me it is one of the most anticipated days of the year.  I am serious!  It comes not too far behind Christmas, Halloween and April Fools day. 


I get my husband back every year on April 15th!

He is a tax accountant and come January of every year we see less and less of him.  He is gone from 6 in the morning until 11 or 12 at night and often until the wee hours of the morning.  He even spends the night on occasion.  This happens Monday through Saturday and sometimes Sunday.   My kids don't see him unless they happen to wake up in the middle of the night.  The older kids know that he comes home at night but my younger two have asked where he flew to.

Oh happy day!  

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Broken Hearts.....

I wasn't going to share this part of the First Kiss story, but I changed my mind.  I have been the cause and the recipient of many a broken heart.  Of the two, it feels so much worse to be the one getting your heart broken.  

That darling young man who treated me so well and gave me a first kiss to remember, well.....I broke his heart.  What can I say?  I was only 15.  We spent part of a school year and most of a summer falling in love.  Only for him it meant so much more than it ever did for me.   My first love didn't come until later, (that is another story for another time and I definitely got my heart broken!)  but I am fairly certain that he thought I was his.  

He was so thoughtful.  Sometimes he would show up with a delicate gold necklace and other times with a single flower.  He opened my doors, cheered me on with pride in my adventures and was very respectful in the way he spoke to me.  

The problem was, he graduated and I didn't.  He left and I was still 15 turning 16.  

He wrote letters expressing his love and future plans he had for us.  I pulled back.  He called and talked of "when".  I pulled back even more.  After a while of this I received a package in the mail from him.  Every photo of me or us together, every token, ticket stub, gift, letter and note that I had ever given him was in that package.  There was no written message from him, but the message was very clear.  I broke his heart and he needed to rid himself of every reminder of me.  Thinking back I really respect him for the way he handled it.  He never tried to beg me back or say mean hurtful things which I probably deserved.  He just bowed out like the gentleman he had always been.  I felt bad then, but I feel worse now when I think about it because I could have given him much more respect than I did.  I could have told him that I was too young for the kinds of promises he wanted from me.  

Instead I pulled back.

I am proud of myself about one thing though.  I never told him I loved him.  That sounds strange, I know, but there is only one man that I have ever said those words to besides my dad and I married him.  Now don't get me wrong, I liked him, a lot, and I told him that.  I just didn't feel that I could say that I loved him.  I've never used that phrase frivolously, partly because I've always had a hard time expressing myself and partly because to me it is something so special that it can't be used just anywhere.  So, know that if you ever hear me say "I love you", I really mean it. 

Friday, April 9, 2010

First Kiss....

On the way home from the gym this morning, my friend and I ended up talking about first kisses.  This, because my son has been asking me about kissing girls, when he should and what to expect.  (I love that he will talk to me about it!)

My friend told me about her tragic first kiss.  She was at a dance and her boyfriends friends planned the whole thing.  They had arranged for a car to be in the parking lot and sent her out to meet him in the car.  Awkard!!!  She said it all felt forced, embarrassing and not at all nice to remember.  

I felt bad for her because mine *sigh* was out of this world.

I was a 15 year old Sophomore and he was an 18 year old senior.  

(That makes for the best combination ever if you ask me!  He knew what he was doing and I was glad!)

He had been a good friend of my brother's so I had known him for several years.  Which means he had known me as a really tall, skinny eleven year old with teeth too big for my face, elbows and knees that were everywhere and a few band-aids here and there.

I was quite the ugly duckling growing up, but something magical happened the summer before my sophomore year.  The braces came off, my hair had grown down my back from the gross perm that forced me to cut it very short, the acne was gone and I no longer tripped over myself everywhere I went.  The boys started to notice me, but I was still oblivious to it.  The attention I mean, not the boys.  I had had a crush on this boy or that since fifth grade, but they never noticed me back until that wonderful year, so I didn't really know what it was that they were all doing until someone pointed it out to me.

I got asked to homecoming by a boy that I didn't know at all, but I was thrilled.  My dress was pink and I couldn't wait to wear it.  I was in the bathroom in a t-shirt and cut off shorts, getting ready for the big night. My hair was up in hot rollers all over my head and while standing tip toed I applied the finishing touches to my lipgloss.  That was when my brother and his friends came rushing in to start getting ready for their dates.  One of his friends in particular started to tease me about the rollers and chased me around a bit trying to get a rise out of me.  I didn't really care that they saw me like that, I had known them all so long.

The dance was fine but I didn't ever go out with that boy again.  Let's just say that this friend of my brother's took over very quickly after that night in the bathroom.  

He was so good to me. 

After a couple of dates he walked me to my door, smiled, tilted his head down and kissed me.  Simply that.  No awkward pause, no awkward where do I put my hands and arms type of thing.  He just bent down, kissed me and said good night.  Oh was I on cloud nine!!!

But wait!  It gets better!

A few weeks later we were at a friends house in the basement trying to figure out a show to watch when our friends ran upstairs to make popcorn leaving us alone.  We talked for a bit when he got a phone call.  He ran upstairs to take it, but returned just a minute later.  He came into the room, smiled at me, put one hand on my cheek, lifted my chin and kissed me gently.  Then his lips parted, my heart pounded and I tasted the sweetness of watermelon.  That beautiful boy!  I don't know if he planned it or not, but he ate the most wonderful watermelon before coming down the stairs and to me it was the syrup of the gods!  There was no slurping or slopping, just soft and gentle kisses standing in the basement.  Our friends came running down the stairs and rather that jumping away embarrassed he put his arm around my shoulders, gave me a squeeze and we spent the rest of the night doing who knows what!  I don't remember the rest because I could think of nothing else!

I consider myself very fortunate that my first kisses were like the ones only dreamt about before they ever happened.  You know the ones. They were the kind that happened in the movies and all of the girls went home at night and envisioned her first kiss to be just like the one that Blane gave Andie in Pretty In Pink or when Keith finally kisses Watts in Some Kind Of Wonderful.

Some girls have all the luck!

(Should I tell my son about the watermelon?)

Monday, April 5, 2010

Wonder Woman!

This week my kids are home from school.  Spring break is here and that means I will have a house full of kids all week long.  I think I might have to pick one of the days to be a no friends in the house at all day just to keep myself sane.  Because when I say a house full of kids I mean at any given time there are anywhere between 10 to 20 kids at my house.  I am not complaining, I love it, really I do!  It's just that too much of a good thing is never a good thing ya know!

Anyway, I am quite proud today because I fixed my dryer all by myself!

It went out yesterday and when it happened I knew exactly what the problem was because about a month ago my sister called me and told me about her dryer woes.  I was so impressed because she had taken her whole dryer apart, starting with the backside, 3 times trying to get at the belt which was the problem.  When it happened I knew it was the belt, it had to be.  

Murphy's law is real!  (Back to my story)  

I skipped taking off the backside after remembering my sisters story and went for the front.  I removed the door, the front panel and took out the drum.  What a dusty mess!!!!  After vacuuming the whole thing, calling my sister twice, and printing out the page from the manual I needed, I fixed the belt!  Ta Da!!!  It was so easy!  

Then came the hard part.

Putting the darn thing back together was the challenge.  I will admit that I grunted a few times, said Dammit once, and probably had plumbers butt here and there.  But, I got it back together just in time to put a load of wet laundry in.  And guess what!  It works beautifully!

There is one thing I have to confess about this though.  I have two screws leftover that I found after I got the whole thing put back together.  I took the door and the front back off to check and make sure all of the holes that needed screws had them and they did.  I could not for the life of me see where they needed to go.  I just told myself that they probably came from under the dryer in all of the dust.  My husband says that if the dryer falls apart we will know where they were supposed to go.

Anyway, how was your day?