Yes, We Have No Limes

Photo by Rohit Tandon on Unsplash

When we first moved into our house in Texas, I was delighted to find a lime tree in the back yard.  I LOVED that lime tree and made excellent use of its fruit.  We used the limes for guacamole, chicken-lime pasta, margaritas, salsa... etc. 

Y'all... I was in lime heaven.

Then one day Louie brought my bliss to a horrible conclusion.  My lime-tree heaven came crashing down around me with this one sentence:  

"Mom, the limes have turned ORANGE"!   

Sigh...

So, to answer a few questions:

1) No, the "lime-juice" did not taste odd at all.  Apparently, unripe oranges are a great substitute for mature limes.  Who knew?

2) Yes, I did think my "limes" were a little oddly shaped.  I made a mental note to look up what kind of lime is more of a sphere-shape than the traditional oval variety we see at the grocery store.

3) Yes, the boys still tease me about my citrus-dyslexia-disorder.  I remind them it is unkind to tease the mentally disabled.  

4) Yes, I have grown weary of the boys holding up a fully ripe orange and cutely saying "look mom... a lime".  It was funny the first 300 times... now not so much!  But it's okay because they have progressed onto other fruit.  Now they hold up a cantaloupe and call it a watermelon.  I.AM.IN.HELL!

5) Yes, I do realize this topic has now come full circle.  Seems I have been pushing lime over orange for years now.  You can read all about that here.   


One day I really DO want a lime tree.  I dream of fresh lime in my guacamole.  I remember my days in lime-tree heaven fondly; where there are plenty of limes that are green... and oval... and tasty.  For awhile I had it all.


It has occurred to me there might possibly be some sort of Biblical lesson here.  Something about being IN the world but not OF the world.  I think being a lime on an orange tree is a perfect metaphor for standing firm in life as a Christian and  going against the sinful nature of the world.  

That's it... I HAVE GIVEN MY CHILDREN A LIFE LESSON! Now who's the not-so-bright one?

That is all...

Why I Can't Say "Yes"

If I made one of those word-art deals that shows my most often used words, "NO!" would be prominently displayed in the largest font, smack dab in the center... It's my daily mantra. The slightly smaller words would include fart, Nerf darts, and SERIOUSLY?!?!?

Here's a sample of words I speak on a typical day:

• "No, you cannot wear your swim trunks to church."
• "No, you may not have a Mountain Dew right before bed."
• "No, you cannot shoot your brother in the face with Nerf darts."
• "No, he didn't think it was funny!"
• "No, your homework is not acceptable if you completed it in invisible ink."
• "Not even if you send your teacher that special pen/light to read the invisible ink."
• "No, its not OK to fart at the table."
• "Seriously?!?!?"
• "No, we can't have a puppy because he will choke on all the Nerf darts and DIE!"
• "Oh... you'll pick up the Nerf darts?  My experience says you won't"
• "Seriously?!?!"
• "No, I'm not going to buy you an iPhone!"
• "WHY?  Because you are in the FOURTH GRADE!"
• "NO!"
• "No, I didn't think that fart was awesome."
• "No, I'm not kidding." 
• "No, it's not okay to buzz your brother's head with your drone."
• "No, because you still haven't picked up the Nerf darts"
• "No, You cannot have syrup on your Cap'n Crunch"
• "No, Ketchup is NOT a vegetable.

etc, etc etc....

I'm such a kill-joy!  

Sometimes I hear myself and I think..."dang I'm glad she isn't MY mother". Being a bummer is exhausting. Sometimes I just want to be cool... fun... agreeable... definitely NOT a bummer. Sometimes I want to say "yes".

Yesterday was such a day.  I was grocery shopping with Louie (4th grade) and I was in a "I just can't be this guy anymore... I want to be FUN!" kind of mood. So I didn't say "no"....not even once. Here's the result of that little experiment.

I just gave my family diabetes! 

Apparently being the "bummer" is my role in this family.  It must be done or we all die in a sugar coma.  Sigh...  In other news, I'm ready for Halloween!!! :)

Wow! Just...... WOW!

Yeah... that's what Army Guy says to me when I do something so completely stupid he can't even believe it. This is one of those "WOW!" stories. I'm reaching back about 18 months for this one. Stick with me because you will not be disappointed. This story is 100% true... you just can't make this stuff up. So sit back and enjoy yet another glimpse into my crazy world.

Scene:
Cleaning up after an army wives event and talking with some friends.

Cast of characters:
Me: the completely crazy one
Tiffany: mother of 4 boys and 1 girl. She totally gets me (she's crazy too)
Holly: Waaaayyyy too polite. And able to keep a straight face during the following conversation.

Tiffany: Oohhhhh... my stomach hurts so bad.
Me: where does it hurt?
Tiffany: all over my abdomen... front and back
Holly: are you gassy?
Tiffany: no but I get this really bad ache every time I eat
Me: is it your digestive system?
Tiffany: I don't know.. it just hurts here (pointing to abdomen). It hurts all over.
Me: Maybe it's your colon... or .... what's that other thing in there?
Tiffany: I'm not sure
Me: you know.. there's a big one and a small one... what is that word?
Tiffany: blank stare
Me: You know... Oh, that's right... your colon and your semi-colon
Holly: (weird look on her face)
Tiffany: Maybe that's it

(short pause: you shouldn't laugh at the verbally challenged... it's rude)

Me: I'll bet you have some sort of blockage in your semi-colon.
Tiffany: I could... that might be it
Me: When will you see the doctor?
Tiffany: I have an apt on Tuesday... I don't think I can make it. I get sick every time I eat. It hurts so bad.
Me: you should tell your doctor it feels like there's a blockage or something in your semi-colon
Me (thinking): "I'm not sure that's the right word... but it's close... I'll remember it eventually"

Okay... so this conversation goes on and on for about 20 minutes. Tiffany and I are SERIOUSLY discussing her "semi-colon" and how it hurts so bad. I'm not making this up! Holly stands there, politely listening to us ... she doesn't say a word. She probably thinks she's being punk'd.

Fast forward three hours. Suddenly, I remember the word. "oh... wait..." I think to myself, "I meant small and large intestines."

Fast forward another 5 minutes. "hmmm... why did I think it was a semi-colon? That word sounds sooo familiar... what's a semi-colon?....."

Fast forward another 5 minutes. Somewhere deep inside my brain... waaaaayyy in the back... a dusty file labeled "Archived Words/English" is accessed. My brain opens the file to discover that a semi-colon is..... 

OOOOHH MYYY WORRRDDD!

Then the laughing began. You know.. the kind where you are crying and you can't speak or breathe? The kind where all you can do is lay on the floor... TRY to catch a breath and hope you don't pee your pants... yeah... that kind of laughing. As soon as I could speak, I called Tiffany and attempted to explain what a complete moron I was. Tiffany really only heard high pitched squeaks.

Ah yeah... good times. The army moved Tiffany's family about six months ago. I miss her a ton. Anyone who can seriously discuss her semi-colon with me... and just instinctively KNOW what I mean without even questioning my intelligence... that's a friend who totally get's me. We were so engrossed in the status of her hurting belly that neither of us stopped to realize exactly what we were talking about. We were completely in sync.

Every now and then I get a posting on my facebook wall from Tiffany. "ooohhh... my semi-colon hurts sooo bad". And every time she does that, it just slays me all over again. That will always be funny!

One day I hope the army will move us close to Tiffany again. But in the meantime... we will always have her semi-colon. And nobody can take that away! :o)

The 90 Dollar Donut

Dewey (4) sitting; Huey (6) center
Louie (3) right

How does a donut cost $90.00? Well... it doesn't. However, the events that led up to the FREE donut were very costly indeed.

It began like any other day. There was the typical struggle to get the boys out of bed... teeth brushed... breakfast eaten... dressed and ready.... yadda, yadda, yadda... mad dash for the minivan. I always cross my fingers and hope to get Dewey to preschool on time. Yesterday was no different. Except this time Louie and I never really did get dressed. We were running late and I just thought "I could totally get away with wearing my jammies to drop Dewey at preschool. I mean... it's a drive-up and drop-off... what could possibly go wrong?" In fact, I was so sure the drop-off would be quick, I even let Louie get into the car with no shoes. By the way, Louie's jammies were shorts and it was a sunny, 35 degree morning.

Let me just pause for a second to allow for the gigantic cyber-sigh happening about now.

So, "What could possibly go wrong?" I dared to ask myself.

Here goes:
We got to the preschool in the nick of time. And I mean, right at 9:00 on the nose. Any later and I would have had to get out of the car and personally take him into the school. "So far so good", I thought. But just as we approached the drop zone I suddenly realized this one minor detail I had forgotten.

"OH NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!" I gasped, as I recalled that it was "Muffins for Moms" day. Dewey's class had been working hard for weeks preparing for this very special party to honor all the moms. They even sent out hand-made invitations. Huey's class did this last year, so I knew it was a big, giant, flippin deal! "AAAUUUGGGHHHHH it starts in FIFTEEN MINUTES!!!" (and we live exactly 16 minutes away!)

At that point I saw the insurmountable situation and I was completely defeated. I explained to Dewey that "Mommy is soooo sorry but I won't be able to come to the party today." Dewey was crushed. Though he handled his disappointment well, I could tell he was heartbroken. As he got out of the van...... I died just a little. I was breaking my son's heart and accepting defeat without even giving it a good try.

"SIGH... okay... I am a mom... I can make this happen... I really can", I thought. "I got this!" It was an impossible situation, but I jumped into tap-dancing-mommy-mode and got moving. So here's how it went down.

We drove really quick to WalMart just around the corner. Louie and I, still in our jammies, ran for the door. "We have THIRTEEN minutes", I yelled to Louie. I was a crazy woman running through the store in search of something... ANYTHING... for Louie and I to wear for this all important mommy party. I was too focused on the mission to realize I was actually one of those "WalMart Shoppers" who was most likely being photographed for the next volume of the seriously revolting (and slightly entertaining) email photo album that will inevitably be circulated throughout the entire globe! (look for me next time you see that email).

I'll spare you the humiliating details of my early-morning jammie-shop and just cut to the end. (Though I would love to see the security video of the loony woman with the half naked 3-yr-old in her cart, frantically running through the store in all her jammie glory). We got an outfit, shoes AND socks for Louie and something for me to wear as well. Wait... I got two extremely classy WalMart outfits just in case the first one did not fit. Louie and I were out the door and changing clothes in the minivan in under 15 minutes. All the while I yelled "hurry Baby... quickly.. We are late for Dewey's party".

So we got back to the school at 9:25 am. I ran my fingers through my hair and put on some lipstick and we made our way into the school. Louie and I arrived at the mommy event only 10 minutes late and I was extremely proud!!!

As we entered the party room I quickly scanned the "crowd" in search of my son. I could hardly wait to see the look on his face when he realized his mother had come after all. I made a mental note to begin writing my "Mother of the Year" acceptance speech!

"Wait..." I thought, "where is everybody?!?!?" The room was empty!!!
*
*
*
Yeh... the party didn't start until 10:15
*
*
*
*
we were 50 minutes early!
*
*
*
Sigh....

I did finally get one bite of seriously expensive donut before Louie procured that little treat for himself. But on the bright side, I AM the owner of two very lovely, designer sweat-suits from WalMart. Wait.... I can totally return one! So then, this doughnut really only cost me $60.00.

In case you were wondering.... My crazy is in hyper-drive today! :o)

We Don't Need No Stink'n Calendar!

Today is January 1... I don't need a calendar to tell me that... I just know! Last night was New Year's Eve and today it is 2011.... all bright and shiny and full of possibilities! So in the tradition of new beginnings and starting the year off right, I decided we should get up and get going. "Yes, I realize we were up late last night... but that's no excuse to skip church", I tell the Ducklings. "So everybody go get dressed in your nice clothes".

This is a sample of how the morning went:

Me:"Everybody get into your church clothes!..... No, you may not wear flip flops to church..... Hurry up we are going to be late!.... Dewey, where is your other shoe?... Who knows where Dewey's shoe is?..... Here, eat a pop tart in the car... we're late, we're late!... Oh shoot, I need coffee... that's okay I can heat up this cold stuff from yesterday... Go, go, get in the car, we're late! We're late!"

15 Minutes later.....



Yeah..... those of you with calendars saw that coming a lonnnngggg time ago!



And 15 minutes after that....



Happy New Year from our home to yours! May 2011 bring many moments filled with laughter... even if you have to laugh at yourself now and then!

Things That Make You Giggle!

Yesterday was a really busy day. We had lots of errands and we were in the van for a very long time. At some point I verbalized a thought. I didn't realize I had said it out loud until I was well into the following conversation.

ME: "Oh, Mommy has to go pee-pee pretty bad!"

HUEY: "HOLD IT MOMMY!"

ME: "ooohhh... I gotta go....!"

HUEY: "Hold it really, really tight mommy... you can do it!"
ME: "Ok.. I'm trying my best"

DEWEY: "Don't pee-pee pants mommy!"

ME: "OK!"

HUEY: "We should pull over so you can squirt a tree!!!"

ME: "AHAHAHAHAHAHA... (pee a little)... hahahahah......"

Boys are the BEST! And... I'm a little jealous that I'm the only one in the family unable to squirt a tree!

If at First You Don't Succeed...

... wait a few days (until the blood stops squirting out of your eyes, and you can look at the drill without repeating all the swear words you invented) and try again. Make sure to review the helpful tips Contractor Dad was nice enough to send (after picking himself up off the floor from a major laugh attack). Repeat to yourself over and over... "I am NOT a complete moron, I am NOT a complete moron". Take a deep breath and go!

So I did it. Here is the result of my successful attempt at installing curtain rods. Four windows done including one rod raised three inches. Yay me!



The only casualty was the 3/16 drill bit (because I knocked the drill onto the floor). Ooops! Oh... and there's also the very small, but infuriating, gash the drill bit put into the hardwood floor before it broke into 3 pieces! (sorry babe! More stuff to fix. I'll get you another set of drill bits! You're on your own with the floor. I'm think'n an area rug would look GREAT there!)

There are NO new holes in the wall for Army Guy to fix! Just the original ones from last week. Shocking... I KNOW! And those holes are pretty much hidden by the curtains... so I'm think'n they will get patched when we sell the house in 3 years... or not! I'm still going to wait for Army Guy to paint because, though I am an excellent painter, I can just imagine how that might go with Huey, Dewey, and Louie running around. "Nightmare" is the word that comes to mind (just off the top of my head.)

Lessons Learned
* If you are drilling and you hit a stud... stop drilling, ditch the anchor and get a 1 1/2 inch screw. (props to Army Guy for having those on hand) (and to Contractor Dad for that handy tip.)

* When you measure and mark the wall, be sure the "marks" are lined up exactly and then drill EXACTLY on your marks. If you don't, the result is this.....



... Ya, that's a bracket leaning left. But it's OK because the one next to it leans right. So it all balances out in the end. (that's kinda "Zen" isn't it?) Whatever... I was not shooting for a general contractor's license. So in spite of the "do-it-yourselfer" flaws... I'm calling this a job well done. (or at least, "pretty ok-ish done", anyway).

A round of margaritas for everyone! I have faced the EVIL anchor and have conquered it's wickedness. I have prevailed! Hurrah!

You may now leave the congratulatory comments that I SO DESERVE! (Except for my brother... I deserve payback for the "crown moulding" zinger! Fire away bro!)

Owning a Drill Does Not a Contractor Make

I can actually hear an "amen" from my very talented (general contractor) dad, 3000 miles away. So Dad, this post is for you. Try not to roll your eyes and wonder where you went wrong. You can't blame yourself. Just enjoy a good laugh and then come out here and teach me a few things! :o)

So, as of my last post I had decided to wait until Army Guy gets home in June and have him paint and hang curtains. But then... the drill started calling to me. It made me all empowered after building the storage cubes... it made me THINK I could handle hanging curtain rods. How hard can it be, right? I know how to drill a hole. (I should have known better. This is not my first disastrous attempt at curtain rod hanging!)

Tools
A good contractor will begin by having all the proper tools for the job. So I gather my tools and get to work.

Drill - check
3/16 drill bit - check
pencil - check
hammer - check
Philips screw driver bit for the drill - check
plastic building block toy (to be used as a measuring standard) (what? ... It worked!)

Step One
Measure with the building block (about 3 inches) and mark the wall.

Step Two
Drill holes for the anchors. So far so good.

Step Three
Push the anchors into the wall.
(Uh oh... anchors are stuck half in and half out. I hammer them and the result is anchors that are half in and then smashed flat against the wall. CRAP! So then I think... "well... I suppose I need to remove the anchors and drill the hole deeper." So I rummage through the garage in search of the needle nosed pliers. "Got it!" Ever try to pull an anchor out of the wall? I nearly launched myself across the room with this brilliant move! So then I decide... "well, can't get the anchors out... can't hammer them in... I guess I need to trim them with a pair of scissors and just Spackle over them...then drill new holes." Genius! Ever try to trim an anchor that is half stuck in the wall? Ya... not so much a good idea! So then I decide.. "screw it... Army Guy can fix that when he gets home. I'll just drill more holes and start over." I'm happy with this plan!) Moving on....



Step Four
Start over with step one. Get a bigger building block and mark holes 4 inches away from the window frame. This works for me.

Step Five
Decide that anchors are from Satan himself and ditch them. Instead, I decide a better plan is to just go with screws only. Because that will be so much easier.... and my curtains are not heavy... so they are not necessary.... right?

Step Five (a)
Invent a few new swear words. (It is at this point I realize that I am a little like my Dad. He invented the very useful "Dad Gummit". I'm beginning to understand how that came to be.)

Step Six
Pause for a second to police my children. Discover Louie doing this....




Ya... that's 1/2 dozen eggs on the floor. Toddler juggling?... Just a guess!

Step Seven
Repeat all prior steps (except 6) and attach 2 more brackets to the wall.... sans the anchors.

Step Eight
Hang the curtains.... and voila!
Stand back to admire handiwork.



DAMN! The rod is sagging because the center bracket is too low. Decide "building block as measuring standard" was not such a good idea.

And then upon closer inspection....


realize the entire rod needs to be about 3 inches higher because you can see the window trim. Not such a big deal right NOW... but after I paint the walls beige... this will not be so super good! DAMN! DAMN!

Step NinePonder my dilemma..... Start all over and raise the rod 3 inches (creating another 6-12 holes for Army Guy to patch) ... Or just go with it and make ALL the rods too low? Hmmm.....Decide not to attempt the other 3 windows and just wait for Mr. Man. My line of thinking goes like this.... "I could spend the next 8 hours (and possibly sacrifice another dozen eggs to Louie's juggling fascination) only to have 57 more holes in the wall and 4 rods that are not at the same level ... causing Army Guy 18 hours of work to repair and rehang. OR... I could just stop while I'm very, very behind and let Army Guy hang three rods and fix one in about 90 minutes.

Step Ten
Decide step nine is brilliant and have a Margarita to celebrate the end of my contractor career!

Step Eleven
At Some point during Margarita break, decide it could be worse... I could have hung crown moulding up-side-down. At least I'm not THAT bone-headed! :o) (sorry bro... love ya, mean it!)

Huey, Dewey & Louie Go To Michael's

The following story is true... I swear! It is not exaggerated in any way. Even I could not make this up!

Yesterday I had some shopping to do at Michael's. Now, those of you with small children are aware that the aisles at Michael's are very narrow, making it impossible to place your stroller anywhere in the store that is out of reach of stuff! You can't even do the "put-your-stroller-in-the-center-of-the-aisle" trick... because that will only enable your precious, precious children to access stuff on both sides of the aisle. Hey Michael's people, listen up!

So we are in the candle aisle. Somebody... not sure which one... breaks a small glass votive candle holder. It goes splat all over the place. I'm standing there in a zillion shards of glass and trying to get the attention of someone to help. No such luck. So I push the stroller around the corner to the ribbon aisle and instruct Huey to "stay and watch your brothers"... I head off, in search of someone to inform about the glass. While I'm away Huey did, indeed, watch his brothers. He watched them "access" about 8 rolls of ribbon and throw the spools down the aisle, causing about 200 feet of ribbon to unravel all over the floor.

Now we have one aisle with broken glass, and one aisle nicely decorated with ribbon. Oh... but "we're" not done yet. As I am trying to re-roll 200 feet of ribbon, and Louie is continuing to throw more ribbon spools on the floor... more unraveling ... Huey comes to me and says "mom... I think there is something wrong with my foot". (just a side note... Huey is wearing his Lightning McQueen Crocs in December... because... well... that's what we do in South Carolina. ) Anyway... turns out, there is glass inside his shoe and his toe is bleeding. I frantically search my purse for a tissue... Band Aid... gauze pad... tourniquet... there is nothing. But then a light bulb goes off and I pull out..... wait for it..... a pantie-liner!

So I am kneeling on the floor of Michael's, holding a pantie-liner to my 4-year-old son's toe, while his brothers continue to "decorate" with ribbon and customers try to avoid glass on the next aisle. It occurs to me, "this is one of those 'mom' moments!". I start to laugh... and laugh... and start to cry because I find this so incredibly funny. Huey looks at me as if to say "why are you laughing... my toe is cut!" All I can tell him is... "I know you don't understand, but this is really, really funny". Then I put the pantie-liner inside his shoe and it is the perfect fit... Like some sort of Dr. Scholls-Lite-Days-Sole-Insert. We continue to shop, knowing that Huey has several hours of "protection".

Fast forward about 5 hours. It's bath time. I have totally forgotten the pantie-liner incident. Huey brings me his "sole insert" and he says to me, "Mom... my toe is all better. Thanks for the shoe band-aid." I'm on the floor laughing again..... The child just slays me!

And I'm certain we are no longer welcome at Michael's. :o)