Thursday, October 30, 2008

Dear Elliott

This is a tough post but well worth it. If you haven't seen this video on YouTube yet, grab a box of tissues and sit down. It's beautiful, touching, and heartbreaking.

It's called 99 Balloons.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=th6Njr-qkq0


Sidenote - I saw this on Oprah while I was in the waiting room at the radiologist office. By the time it was over, the entire room was sniffling, even the men. What a thing to lift my spirits before I have to get a mammogram. Ugh. I don't look like I'm gonna be 40 next year. Why do I have to start acting like it. Suck-ola..

Sunday, October 26, 2008

Yeah, Cuz Falling Always Makes Me Feel Better

Thanks for the bloggy love, everyone. :-) So much more I could say but..thanks so much. I appreciate it more than you know.

The strangest thing happened today. I can't quite explain why...but it made me feel so much better.

I ate it in a pile of dirt. at church. in high wedgy heels. while carrying my daughter.

We park on a street behind our church so we don't have to deal with the after church parking lot chaos. The street is paved but either side is still full of tons of clumpy dirt.

After I got Pip out of her carseat, I shut the door and started walking. I stepped on a rock and started wobbling...and wobbling..and stumbling...

then I said..."$#@! %$#@!"...and fell into this strange pretzel like position...on my butt with my right leg folded under me and my left in a weird angle with my ankle bent.

I went straight down so Pip wasn't hurt. After a moment of shock, I started laughing and saying "ow! ow! ow!" Hunter saw it happen and started laughing.. Paul ran over to the my side, saw me and Pip in the dirt and started laughing. He took Pip from me then he and Hunter each took one of my hands and pulled me up.

Then Pip started laughing.."Mommy biffed it! Mommy ate it! hahahaha! She fell on her butt!"
Paul and Hunter could not stop laughing.

"This is going down in family lore!"
"Hahaha, you're never gonna live this down!"
"Haha, mommy has dirt all over her pants and her butt!"
"Look at her purse! Hahahahaha!"
"Mom, I can't believe you swore in front of us! AND AT CHURCH! Bahahaha!"

Giggling, I wiped off my butt, legs, and purse then limped to church...During the service, Paul looked down at my left foot and started snickering. I looked down. All my toes were covered in dirt. I smiled.

I didn't even wipe it off.

We laughed about it for the rest of the day. We are laughing about it right now actually.

My toes and my ankle still hurt.

Saturday, October 25, 2008

Not Tonight..

Can't post what I was originally going to tonight. I'm having one of my moments where I can't breathe, move, or think straight.....and it has nothing to do with me being sick at the moment.

I just read a post on one of the blogs I love the most. I went over to Loralee's* blog looking forward, as usual, to her latest post. Instead, I chose to read two older posts that she had written about losing her baby boy, Matthew. She lost him, ironically, the same month and year that we lost Wrigley.

I almost didn't read either of them. I'm glad I did. It was powerful how she honored her son.

At the same time, it felt like I'd been punched in the stomach. Hard.

I haven't had the guts to write about my precious girl like that.

I can't even talk about her much. I want to. I really do. I just can't.

Some of my closest friends I've made since we've moved here 2 years ago don't even know about her. They've seen her picture in our house and wondered, I'm sure, but haven't asked. If they were to, I'd tell them but if they don't, I'm not volunteering anything. The fear of crumbling into a heap, drug to a couch and being told it's ok, it's ok..you were lucky to have had her..even for a little while..she's in a better place..

Those trigger words. I can't hear them. I know I've said them to others. I get it but still...they make it worse. Loralee understands that. Even though we've never met, I feel like I know her so well in this respect. My girlfriends who helped me through it all 5 years ago understand that.

I would love to write a beautiful tribute for Wrigley. For her father. brothers. sister. grandparents. aunt and uncle. She deserves it. I've been through so much the last 5 years learning the best I can how to cope...to survive...to accept...I should be able to.

I have Wrigley in my secret place in my heart where only her and I can go...Pain and sorrow aren't allowed there...only peace, happiness and love can live there. It's a place I can go when I'm calm, relaxed, and having a good day. When I am in control of my emotions. Maybe next time I visit her there, I'll ask her if she would mind if I wrote about her tiny but Godly made life.

Maybe I'll try...but not tonight..Tonight I'll do what I normally do. Hide under the covers and pretend the rest of the world isn't there.

*Take time to read Loralee's other posts as well. She's a hilarious, talented, highly spirited writer..

Thursday, October 23, 2008

I'm Sick..Guess Who Made Me Sick..He Feels Guilty Though..Good.

My husband came back from being out of town last week and he brought me back a present. I didn't like it. It has caused me to sneeze, cough, dry heave and basically just feel like total crap. I was and still continue to be ungrateful for this present.

I can't really be too mad at him though. Well, I could....but I think he's actually feeling a little guilty about giving me this present.

When I crawled in bed last night at 8:00 to lamely and fruitlessly study my lines, he came in with this:

and this:


When I got out of bed to get a drink of water, I saw this:


I wonder what I'd get if he gave me pneumonia.

Monday, October 20, 2008

Go And Take A Nice Pee Robin..

There is one July 4th in my life that stands out above all others. It was the summer going into my senior year.

I was with my friends, Craig and Khrista. We started out at Craig's house doing, of all things, playing with a ouija board. Ugh. After that we played truth or dare. I admitted to peeing in the shower..Oh don't go all high and mighty on me. You know you've done it.

When it got late enough, we snuck onto this cool golf course that looked out over the city. Awesome. There we were in the dark watching fireworks over the city. Too cool. We did a bunch of other stupid stuff that night which is what actually made it one of the best 4th of Julys ever (that info will never reach the virtual pages of this blog) but I will stick to the point of my story..

As the night was winding down, Craig was driving back to his house so Khrista and I could grab our cars and head home. On the way I decided that I really really really had to pee. I begged Craig to stop somewhere so I could go. Being the freak that he was, he pulled into a mortuary parking lot and told me to go behind the dumpster.

Pissed as I was..haha, pun intended!...I climbed out of his car and ran behind the dumpster. Have I mentioned that I had (and still have) legs of steel? Most women girls squat and pee at some point in their lives when they are faced with a situation in which there is no bathroom available but more often than not, it doesn't work out well. Weak legs, no toilet paper, pee on their ankles. It's not pretty. Me? I am was a pro at it. Nary a drop on me. Some people pack heat, I packed strong legs and toilet paper.

I do my business and saunter back to the car. As I near, I see my friends laughing hysterically. Craig has tears running down his face. Huh? Waa?

I climb back in..What are you doofs laughing at, I ask.

"You..HAHAHAHAHA...lights...HAHAHAHAHA..shadow!...BAHAHAHAHA..peed!"

HUH?!?!

Craig kept his headlights on while I was piddling...and angled the car just right...

SO HE COULD CAST MY SQUATTING-BENT-OVER-PEEING-AND-WIPING-MY-BUTT SHADOW ON THE WALL BEHIND THE DUMPSTER...

Some things from high school you forget over the years. Other things?

Stay ingrained in your head FOREVER. Especially when the mortuary is near your childhood home and you drive by it every time you go home to visit.

I cannot think of that memory without laughing or smirking.

I wonder if I was the final memory of the newly departed in that mortuary..

Sunday, October 19, 2008

What PMS Really Stands For..

Got this in my e-mail recently. Too true to ignore.

Things PMS stands for:

PASS MY SHOTGUN

PSYCHOTIC MOOD SWING

PERPETUAL MUNCHING SPREE

PUFFY MID-SECTION

PEOPLE MAKE me SICK

PROVIDE ME with SWEETS

PARDON MY SOBBING

PIMPLES MAY SURFACE

PASS MY SWEATS

PISSY MOOD SYNDROME

PACK MY STUFF

POTENTIAL MURDER SUSPECT

Friday, October 17, 2008

Let...Me...In.........NOW!!!!

As some of you know, I have an older brother named Keith. He's always been an awesome big brother. When we were kids, he always did the things I wanted to do, played the games I wanted to play, went swimming when I wanted to swim and basically was just there for his lil sister. There weren't a lot of fights between us..that I remember at least.

He did have his moments though.

Like when he would catch me doing something wrong then blackmail me so he wouldn't tell our parents...

or

When he would hang my barbies from my ceiling fan or have my ken doll do unspeakable things to them...

The creme d'la creme though was one particular hot summer afternoon.

Keith and I were swimming while our parents were doing yardwork. At some point, Keith started teasing me about something. For the life of me, I can't remember what. My dad kept telling him to stop but he wouldn't. This went one for awhile in the pool. I finally decided I'd had enough and got out. Keith followed taunting me..

When I reached my breaking point, which to be honest probably wasn't long because my fuse was much much shorter than it is now, I started chasing Keith around the yard yelling and calling him all kinds of names. My mom started yelling at me to stop yelling and at Keith to leave me alone.

Neither of us listened.

Since Keith was the older child, he got the better room in the house. It had the standard bedroom door but it also had another door leading directly into the backyard. As we both ran around the grass like idiots, Keith decided to ditch me by running into his room, slamming the door and locking me out. By that point, I was completely irrational and decided that this boy was going to get a serious beatdown...or at least as much as I could apply at 7 or 8...the door wasn't going to slow me down.

I grabbed the door handle and started slamming my body against the door screaming, "Lemme in! Lemme in! Lemme in!" Ok, so I've neglected to mention that Keith's door was mainly glass. Yes, people glass. It had (has) 4 glass panels separated by strips of wood moulding, like a french door.

At this point, our parents were actually standing completely still in the yard. Frozen to their spots with their garden gloves, edgers, probably wondering why they were even surprised an event such as this was occurring between their two offspring.

Back to the action - I'm slamming my butt against the door, Keith is in his room making obnoxious faces and laughing at me through the glass while my parents stare pointlessly at us realizing that we were probably both switched at birth.

Me: Bang! Bang! Bang! "Lemme in! Lemme in!"
Keith: "Haha..Haha..Haha..You wish!"
Parents: silence
Me: Bang! Bang! Bang! "Let (Bang!)...Me (Bang!)...In (Bang!)...NOW!

Crash!!!

My butt is now inside my brother's room while the rest of me is still outside.

Parents: silence
Keith: "Oooo, you are SO gonna get it now Rob! Kiss your life good-bye!"
Me: "Mom Dad, it's not my fault! Keith did it! He made me do it!"
Parents: "Keith Middle Name Last Name! How could you do that to your sister! She broke the glass! She could really be hurt!"

Me: Frozen with my butt stuck in the door full of broken jagged glass, I stare at my parents in shock that I for once did not get in trouble.

They run over to me, pull me out, check me over. Not one scratch, scrape, or cut. Don't forget I was wearing a bathing suit.

Keith is standing in his room..horror spreads over his face...he knows he's beyond busted....I can't remember his exact punishment but I know whatever he got, he got it good..and then some.

This was a rare but sweet childhood victory for me.

Revenge is best served cold..over glass.


Footnote - My hubby always teases me that Keith and I weren't really raised together as we consistently have totally different memories/versions of our childhood happenings. I doubt this story will be any different. Hmm..we shall see what big brotha writes in my comments.

Thursday, October 16, 2008

Farting Is Such Sweet Sorrow

Oops..I meant to say Parting Is...oh screw it, no I didn't.

But really, I may not be blogging much in the next month and a half..As some of you may have read, I am in a musical and for some crazy karmic possibly bad ju-ju reason, I have the female lead. I have rehearsal almost every night so my posts may not be as frequent as I'd like. I have a solo to learn, lines to memorize, and a male lead to make out with during rehearsals (oh snap..how the heck am I going to do THAT without cracking up on stage?) ...and no, Paul isn't overjoyed with that but he knows he's my soulmate so all is right in the universe...and, oh yeah I need to up my work-outs so I look half-way decent under hot blazing lights. More importantly, the kids will need some extra mommy love since it'll be crazy-nuts around here for awhile.

In my mind, I plan on writing multiple posts and scheduling them for the upcoming weeks cuz that's the only feature that stupid Blogger has that is worth anything but in reality, we'll see.

I'll still be checking my blog and trying to keep up with my faves..Cross your pinkie toes and pick your nose and all that.

ps. for multiple reasons, i don't want to mention what play or where ;-) sshhh!
pps. Pray for me please that I'll be able to shine God's light through my words and actions during both rehearsals and performances. You know how I can be...eek.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Monday, October 13, 2008

Twitter Jerks

Ok, so I have accepted that I don't get a lot of responses to my tweets on Twitter. There are a few people that I will no longer leave comments on their blogs cuz they BLATANTLY ignore me when I tweet back to them. Yes, I am mature like that.

One particular person really chaps my hide. I don't know why exactly but he really irks me when he tweets. I could go on and on and on about this topic but seriously, what's the point? People are who they are and I can't kill them. Accept it Robin and move on....

So imagine my surprise yesterday when I run into my bloggy friend Jill at Retro..We haven't seen each other since our coffee morning at Starbucks months ago..We chat for a minute and then she says the funniest thing I had heard all day:

"What's been goin on with you? You've been writing the weirdest things on twitter lately!"

Yahoo!

I doubt many bloggers actually get face-to-face feedback regarding their tweets so me being the nutjob weirdo that I am, thought it was totally BOSS! Yes, I was a teenager in the 80's, people.

Now that I have some serious twitter affirmation, I am declaring that this cancels out any irritation I feel when I twit at least for a day or so, cuz I am so mature like that.

Thank you Jill! Now everyone, go to her blog and read about how she's raising money for The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. Then donate some green in honor of her acknowledging me on Twitter..face to face..in a bakery..with cupcakes in our hands..

Now I'm off to irritate myself people on twitter.

Cuz I'm cool like dat.

Favorite Comment-
I'm still grossing out about that frog pic. What's wrong with you?!
Weith Kick

Friday, October 10, 2008

Splat Goes The Frog

Update - Ok, due to popular demand, the dead frog picture is at the bottom of this post. View at your own discretion. Yuck, I gagged just taking the picture.

I killed a frog last night. In my driveway. With the Green Monster.

I didn't mean to do it. Why didn't the dang thing hop away when it saw me coming? It must have been like a deer frog in the headlights or something.

When I walked around the truck to get Pip out, I glanced down the driveway and noticed something glistening in the streetlight. Huh? I sauntered down thinking it was a little piece of trash that the garbage man spilled from the trash can and didn't pick up.

Ugh. I ran over one of it's front legs and amputated it. Blood was running down my stamped concrete driveway...

I didn't tell Pip of course but when we got inside I told Paul and Hunter. They went out to take a gander then came back in and called me a frog killer.

This morning the 3 of us went out to look at it. Gross..It was like a high school frog dissection gone wayyyyy wrong. Of course, the arguing over who was going to clean it up began.

Paul: You really need to get that cleaned up.
Me: I'm not doing it! Gross! Yuck!
Hunter: Let the dogs eat it..
Paul: Just get a shovel, scoop it up, and throw it in the trash can. I think I see a job for Hunter.
Me: Yeah, me too. Just get the hose and spray it into the rock.
Hunter: Hey! That's not fair! I didn't do it.
Me: Just get the pooper scooper and scoop it up.
Hunter: Why can't we just let the dogs eat it?!
Me: Hunter!!!
Paul: This is going on your blog isn't it.
Me: Probably.

Paul and Hunter want me to post a picture of it on my blog. Should I? It's pretty gross..

Right now, Hunter is singing behind me: I killed a frog and I liked it.....




Wednesday, October 8, 2008

A Letter to A Dumb Security Guard

Dear Neighborhood Security Guard,

Please pull out your handbook on how to be a chilvarious security guard or better yet, a smart one. I'm sure this handbook was included in your new hire materials when you were hired to drive around and pretend to guard our gated community.

On page 1 of your handbook it clearly states:

If you see a woman sprinting down the street chasing her dog, HELP her.

So why dear security guard, did you drive up and ask me if I needed help when obviously you weren't planning to help at all? Asking me if that is my dog and why isn't she leashed isn't helping when I'm breathless, I have a teenager and toddler running behind me yelling, and my other dog is trying to yank me forward practically off my feet from his leash. Use your brain man.

I've seen your peers help other catch their dogs. I've even seen them chase down strays , throw them in the security truck, take them to the guard gate and call the pound.

I asked a simple question of you. "Will you open your passenger side door and just call for her? She loves car rides and will jump right in." Instead you say something unintellligible and drive off, leaving me standing there in this chaos while my dog continues to run. Waa? Huh?

My son took over the chase and eventually caught the dog several blocks down, along with the help of friendly neighbor who drove ahead of Hunter and cut Daisy off before she could cross the street.

Shouldn't YOU have done this since you saw me running in horror as my dog ran near the main street in our neighborhood? You know..The one where all the cars drive up and down when leaving/entering our community? The one YOU drive on..

I guess you didn't help because it was my son's fault for Daisy getting loose by not putting her collar on tight enough. Or maybe you didn't help because our HOA rules say dogs must be leashed at all times when outside in the public areas and mine obviously wasn't. Doi. She was leashed but escaped...or did you not figure that out even though I was holding her collar/leash in my empty hand?

If I ever see your dog/cat/ferrett/mouse/snake or whatever pet you may own loose on the street, I'm gonna take it to the pound and leave it's poop on your doorstep.

Sincerely Yours,
A resident whose HOA fees help pay your salary. Glad to know it's money well spent.

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

Why I Workout

I used to look like this:

4 kids later, I started to look like this:


And that folks is why I work out.

Friday, October 3, 2008

God, I'm SO Sorry Eve Ate That Apple.

Last week I had my yearly and all that that implies ugh. But let's back up a moment and set the stage so you may understand my mood of that morning.

A rather unusual smooth morning getting the kids ready for school. No dawdling (my mom's favorite word), no mouthiness, no food spilled on our school clothes, and some strange alien-like cooperation when getting in the car. ..ps. this was all the Pip.... Hunter is the easy morning child.

Dropping Pip off at her little pre-school. Smooth. Driving to Starbucks. Smooth. Waiting at the pick-up window for my coffee..A long but smooth wait. They were almost done brewing a new pot of decaf so I had to wait a minute or two. No big deal. I was jammin to some Sirius..Luv me some Sirius.

Starbucks dude leans out and hands me my coffee AND a coupon for a free cup of any coffee on my next visit for being so sweet, cute and lovable..oh and for agreeing to wait a minute or two.

NOW there is a huge smile on my face. I know where I'm headed next and I almost don't care...THEN I get there. I walk in with my yummy Starbucks and check in. Even though I am not a new patient, I had to fill out everything again, always an irritant, but I'm still good cuz I have my cup o'joe. As I finish up, the gal at the desk advises me no food or drink in the waiting room so I'll have to take my coffee outside. NOW the irrititation starts. I take a big swig, glare at the gal who has shaved her eyebrows off and painted in fake ones, and walk outside. I put my coffee in the green monster then come back in and wait.

I'm in the room. Long story short, as I am on the table, my 'visitor' decided to stop in. At that very moment. Appointment aborted. My OB said to come back in 2 weeks. MORE irritation.
My day was taking a dump pretty quickly.

I leave and take the green monster in the to get the oil changed and have them check out my check engine light. It'll take 30 minutes they say. Yeah right I'm thinking. Sure nuf, almost 2 hours and a special part ordered, they still aren't done. I told them several times, I need to be out of here by 11:45. Speed it up. 11:45 comes, MY TRUCK IS STILL UP ON THE RACK.

I lean through the window and yell, "Get my truck off the rack! I need to pick up my daughter NOW!" They stare, my truck comes down, I leave. I'm outside grabbing the keys from the mechanic. I step off the curb too early, my ankle bends in half, I fall off and stumble against my truck. The mechanic advises me to be careful or I could break an ankle. I glare at him, mumble something in Spanish, grab the keys, jump in and slam the door.

My day was now officially crap.

Other things that happened last week:

*I got a callback for the musical I auditioned for. I went yesterday for the 2nd audition.
*I put my husband on a plane so he could spend the weekend with the guys back home.
*I got a hickey at a 4 year old's birthday party.

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Bad JuJu?

Recently:

I tripped over a curb and fell against my truck outside of PeiWei....in front of a group of men who were, for some reason, tailgaiting in front of a cigar store.

A couple weeks later, same restaraunt. I had trouble backing out of a parking spot, different group of men partying outside the cigar store, one of them finally had to wave me out while the rest hooted and laughed.

One night outside, I took a sip of wine and felt something strange slip into my mouth. I spit back into the glass and saw....a dead moth.

I was helping Piper brush her teeth when I felt something tickle on my arm. I look down to see a spider crawling up it.

Last night I caught Baxter (dog) trying to get up on the bar to get some food. I ran over yelling for him to stop, sprained my ankle tripping over the kids' shoes, and fell into the sofa table.

Got my oil changed this morning. When I walked outside to pick up the truck from the mechanic, stepped off the curb too early, I bent my other ankle in half, and stumbled to the truck.

I'm married. I have 3 kids. I have a big nose. Now go on and catch up.

Keep it nice or I'll post your email and make fun of you.

pof5@cox.net

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