American Girls Just Want To Have Fun

Last week the granddaughters and I went to Atlanta to join some friends and their girls for an "American Girl" day. Shopping, lunch at the American Bistro, and the new Kit Kitteredge movie was our all day excursion.

We arrived the night before and left the day after so my friend was more than generous offering us all lodging at her house for both nights. Maybe she knew I'd bring wine.


Driving up was full of anticipation; the girls singing to EVERY song on the Disney channel and then requesting me to play Miley Cyrus; youngest granddaughter brought a CD. In pops the CD and suddenly I am flooded with requests. "Play number 4!" "No, play number 12!" "I want 4!". They were reading the back of the CD cover and yes, once again, knew all the songs. I suggested we take turns; Youngest brought the CD so she goes first, then the oldest. The first song she picks is Miley's remake of Cyndi Lauper's "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun". They are in the back seat singing and laughing and occasionally yelling "GIRLS RULE!" and "ROAD TRIP!". It's a madhouse back there. Now it's oldest granddaughter's turn she chooses.... the same song! It went like that for awhile.


I wish I had posted during the trip, with my advanced age and decreasing short term memory, I forget things until about two weeks later, then it becomes a long term memory and I can retrieve it.


The girls and I shared a futon at night. It was quite comfortable. I was expecting to be jabbed and poked during the night but they were so wiped out each day that they just fell asleep and barely moved. And one interesting note, they both loved "The Deadliest Catch". That show appeals to everyone... just how do they stay ON the boat?


One night though I awoke in the middle of the night to find youngest granddaughter's face about two inches above mine, peering down at me. "Hello" I said. "Hello" she replied. Satisfied it was me, she rolled over and went back to sleep. Sort of freaked me out.

The girls looked like little white China dolls. All four of them were dressed alike in sapphire blue mandarin collared pajamas. Even their dolls had matching pjs! Our friend from North Carolina bought each of them a set - they were the hit for pictures and I think created a sense of girl unity on the night that they all were decked out in them.

I have figured out what oldest granddaughter will be when she grows up; a dentist. She was the one who brushed her teeth without prodding. And she flossed. And she rinsed with this Smart Rinse product. Maybe I will get her a Water Pik for Christmas, bet she'll love it.

Before we left, I made up some "rules for the road". Each girls were given the rules prior to the first mile logged.

The rules were as follows;


Be nice to everyone in our group
No screaming
Share
You don’t have to eat something you don’t like but no one is making something special just for you – we eat as a group of friends
If you order it, you eat it
One doll and one outfit each or one doll and one pet. No whining about this ----
Play
Tell jokes
Laugh
Love each other

Funny how they focused on "if you order it - you eat it".

When we were at the Bistro for lunch, they gave us three choices, an appetizer, an entree, and a side. Youngest granddaughter was easy, pretzel bread, chicken strips, and curly fries. All oldest granddaughter wanted was macaroni and cheese. So I went ahead and ordered her that along with the pretzel bread (which was warm and chewy and dipped in gooey cheese - right up her alley). When the waitress brought it she said "I didn't order that!" I replied "No, but I figured you'd like it and we have to wait a bit for your macaroni and cheese." Youngest granddaughter listening in on this exchange said "If you didn't order it, you don't have to eat it".

Thanks dear.

The pic above was taken with the pretzel bread... both were demolished - they were hungry!

She finally did it eat once she saw others at the table chowing down enjoying theirs. I will say once she tries something, she usually likes it.

I have watched them with their families and they are a bit more wide open with mom and dad than with me. I think they just aren't sure how I will react and that keeps them in line somewhat.

On the way home they asked to stop for lunch. I gave them a choice either a fancy place or we could go to Mc Donalds. They wanted to hear about the fancy place. I told them about The Blue Willow Inn, where we would eat on blue glass plates which they would carry themselves and pick out their own lunch, a dessert table that had AT LEAST seven or eight desserts on it plus a big ole bowl of freshly whipped cream, and the best sweet tea you would ever drink. They picked the fancy place over a Happy Meal! YEAH!

They even took in their new American Girl dolls with them. I let them get whatever they wanted to eat and when they were ready for dessert they could pick out whatever AND go back for seconds. See grandmas are fun.

Youngest granddaughter lost her first tooth there too! She had a wiggly one and was chomping down on an ear of corn when it must have pulled because she set it down and said " I think my tooth is falling out!". I felt it and by golly it was looser! She hesitantly took another bite of corn and then set it down "I just can't do it" she exclaimed. "It's okay" I assured her. Then I looked at oldest granddaughter...hmmmm--- she has had a loose tooth for awhile now that maybe, just maybe I could get it to budge by enticing her to eat some corn on the cob. "Hey, why don't you eat some corn?"

"NO WAY!" she said.

She was on to me.

As we were eating dessert, the tooth came out. Actually youngest granddaughter just felt it move when she ate her cheesecake and reached in her mouth and plucked it out.

I missed alot when my own children were little; football games, band recitals, even being there when they were sick, all those things I regret.

Grandchildren is God's way of giving you a second chance.

And I am taking it and making the most of it.

It's Just a Piece of Cheese

I had a dream last night that hubby had divided our fridge into two separate areas. He had made a divider with duct tape for one shelf.

When I awoke this morning I told him about the dream, shaking my head about how silly something like that would be.

He said "I can see it happening".

I stared at the shape in the dark that was most likely him and replied "You have got to be kidding. Did you hear me? You DUCT TAPED the shelf to indicate sides; yours and mine".

"Yeah, well why did I do it?"

"It had to do with cheese. You wanted some cheese and I wouldn't buy it so you went out and got some and put it on your "side"."

"Yeah, like I said, I can see that happening."


"How would that happen? We are talking cheese."

"Well, if you wouldn't buy me any cheese, and I went out and made a special trip for cheese, then it would be my cheese."

"Honey, are you telling me you wouldn't give me a slice of cheese?"

"Why would you want the cheese? You said no to buying the cheese. I went out and got the cheese so it's my cheese."

"And I couldn't have a slice of cheese. A single. A Kraft single. I couldn't have a Kraft single?"

"Well it's technically my cheese to do with as I please. But we could work out a deal."

He winked.

Men.

All they think about is cheese.

When the Planets Align

There are just days when you can't catch a break no matter what you do.

When I worked for Alltel we used to shake our heads when we had a customer that entered "The Customer Service Twilight Zone". Some poor soul who had everything go wrong with their phone and their billing - they just stumbled in the zone through no fault of their own.

If we don't have little things go wrong from time to time, they become bottle necked and all shoot out at once when the pressure forces an explosion.

That happened to hubby and I Saturday night when we went on a dinner and a movie date.

Actually, a movie and then dinner because a later show would have released too late for dinner at an acceptable hour and getting home before we turn into a pumpkin and mice.

So we decide to go see "The Dark Knight".

I was a little freaked out about seeing it since Heath Ledger had died right after filming but hubby said "You like Cary Grant movies don't you?" He had a point so off we went.

What a good flick -

About 10 minutes from the end, the screen starts going "erp! brechhh! phtttttt!" and the movie stopped. What an uproar! It was a matinee and sold out! People were not happy. It took several minutes to get someone to let us know what was going on other than the obvious; no movie.

A little girl ,no more than 4 foot nothing ,comes in and announces " It will be 7 minutes before the show resumes." I remember seeing all those big, brawny teenage guys out there taking tickets., they sent a girl in to tell us. Chickens.

How can you be irritated at a little slip of a thing?

So the movie starts back up from where we left off and when it's over we go get something to eat.

"You pick." I say to hubby.

"Are you sure?" he replies, surprised to say the least.

"Sure, you pick the restaurant. I will be happy with where ever you choose"

"Yeah right" he mumbles.

So off we go.

I should have guessed.

Pizza and beer.

So we get to the Pizza Joint.

I really hate getting out of the car. It was hot out there, baking hot. 101 degrees at 7 PM in the evening. Someone hand me a hose.

We go inside. Hubby heads for the bathroom. He drank the large Diet Coke pretty much by himself and I feel sorry for anyway blocking his way.

The hostess leads me to a table. It sure is hot in here.

She is abut to slap down the menus and run off when I ask her "Is your AC broke?"

"Uh-huh" she replies and rushes off.

Lovely, just lovely.

I wait for hubby sandwiched between two tables with kids; one table hasn't gotten their food yet and they look hot and a little mean and the other table the kids are out with just dad who is oblivious that his toddler is aiming pepperoni from his pizza at my shoe.

Hubby returns looking relieved and I bolt to the bathroom "My turn!"

I hang out in there for a little longer than necessary for there is an open window in there and it is actually tolerable. I finally go back to the table and sit down banging my knee on the table as I try to get in the booth.

Hubby looks at me, " Do you want to go?" he asks.

"Yes"

"Alright let's go".

Back in the car I say "Pizza and beer was a great idea. Let's go downtown and eat at Mellow Mushroom".

"It's too far, and I thought I was picking."

I sit there silently. A couple of lights later we are pulling into Red Robin's parking lot.

OH NO I say to myself. Red Robin has pretty good burgers but they have yet to get my order right even once and I have been there at least 10 times. They've even given me a $25.00 gift certificate for poor customer service.

"Please" I pray, "just this time get an order straight".

Hostess takes us to a booth and I notice the seats are wet. I am wearing white pants, this won't do. I ask her if she can get something to dry them off with and she goes off mumbling something about busboys.

We're seated with menus and our waiter comes over. He was a nice guy but little did he realize that we sucked him up in the Twilight Zone by sitting in his area.

He takes our drink order; Bass for hubby and Diet Coke for me.

We start to cool down and relax.

He comes back for our order. We're not ready, Hubby had forgotten his reading glasses and I was trying to use my sunglasses to read the menu while he had on mine. Waiter goes and comes back. We're ready this time. Hubby orders a cheeseburger and I order a Santa Fe burger with melon instead of fries.

Where's our drinks?

I look at hubby and say "You know, they have never gotten an order right for me. Ever."

He looks at me and says "If they say they are out of beer or cheese, I'm outta here".

We wait for the drinks.

My Diet Coke arrives.

The waiter goes off looking for the beer.

We wait.

The manager comes to our table.

"I'm sorry Sir," he starts off. ( I start twitching)

"We're out of Bass."

"You're out of Bass?" hubby is incredulous.

"Yes, How about a Guiness?"

"That's fine".

Needless to say we sat there anticipating the worst. But all that happened was I got melon with my fries.

I can live with that.

But Red Robin, you are 0/11 so far.

Project Kitchen

You know how they say you should never build a home with your spouse unless you are ready to test, really test, your marriage?

I totally get that.

Not that hubby would ever find himself living the single life and partying like a rock star, I would kill him first.

He'd be out of control on his own.

Plus we, well, me, has this thing; I want a 50 year anniversary party. I'm putting all our kids on alert right now, when we hit 50 years of togetherness, a big shin ding needs to be organized by you offspring. That would be 31 years from now - plenty of fair warning. I'd start getting a plan together at year 48 if I were you guys. Keep in mind our friends will be old and may need a ride back to the "home" and you might have some erhhh, deletions. (if you know what I mean)


Why do they think I give dad all those vitamins and tea concoctions?? I want a party!!!


Two little old people holding hands and eating cake and getting hugs from everyone. Yup, sounds like heaven to me. Of course I may have Alzheimer's and not know anyone there, so bring pictures and wear name tags and be ready to explain to me how we are related.

But back to the kitchen.

We are ready to start taking the first steps toward the renovation. It's more like I'm ready, hubby would rather save every penny first and then start the project. That would be one massive project in my book, I like doing it in stages. Plus, once we get started we will be so gung-ho to get it done that we will do everything we can to conserve and have "kitchen money".

Ever hear the saying about how do you eat an elephant? You eat it one piece at a time.

That's like this kitchen, looking at it in stages makes it not so daunting to me.

But I drive my beloved crazy.

I am not logical he says.

I don't have a plan he says.

I can not visualize spatial relationships. Well he has me there...

But I am logical, to me anyway, and I do have a plan, but just not HIS plan.

To give you an example at how we differ from one another it's best to talk food. I can read a recipe and just by seeing the ingredients and how's it prepared, know how it will taste and whether I will like it or not.

Him?

"All those ingredients sound like a salad"

or

"What's capers?"

or

"Why am I reading this again? I'm not cooking it am I?"

So, when it comes to measuring a cabinet to see if a wine chiller will fit, it's well within my scope of understanding to make comments such as;

"Why do you have to measure from the inside?"

or

"Do you add in the inches from the tape measure itself?"

or

"What do they mean by "depth"? We already measured up to down."

I can see colors in my head and match things without having a sample in my hand.

He can find places using a map. That's pretty impressive to me, I find things by saying "turn right at the fist BP station by the store that sells those pretty baskets".

So I will have to let you know how this project goes...

I dragged our middle son into the fray. He renovates and remodels and builds and fixes and does all the stuff that hubby and I don't know how to do. I would probably run him off if we did everything at once. It's better to deal with me in "doses" when it comes to something like this, no need to get the full obsessive personality at one time.

He is so careful too - he painted the upstairs guest room for me and it is a work of art. He even helped with choosing the right shade. He sure has grown up since that Robin Egg Blue color he picked for his bedroom when he was 10. Woo boy howdy - talk about bright! I thought Peter Cottontail would hop on down the bunny trail in there. It looked like an Easter egg.

I stopped at the tile store today and have a sample of the mosaic tiles that I want to use for our back splash. I also have the Sherwin Williams color wheel with the color picked out for the walls.

Don't think I will show it to him just yet.

It would look like a salad.

Penmanship is Important

Lately hubby and I have been feeling our age. My hips bother me and the muscles tighten and actually makes one leg longer than the other and he just experienced a extremely debilitating bout of arthritis in his lower back.

With all the anti-inflams, pain pills, and Ben Gay heat wraps littering our nightstands coupled with morning stretching sessions, one would think we were tottering near the edge of eldercare.

The last couple of days we have been pretty much pain free. It doesn't hurt when we sleep. (truly a horrible thing)

This morning he let me sleep a little later, it is my birthday after all.

I awoke to two cards propped on my laptop. (he KNOWS where I will easily find them)


Hubby always gives me two birthday cards for my birthday, one serious and heartfelt, and the other funny. This year was a little different, both were serious.

The first one was an "I love you" card, very sweet.

The next one was a booklet.

It had a lot of pages and

many words were underlined.

One page was soothing pastels and the next page increasingly pink shades of pink. Quite vibrant actually.

That was the passion page.

It said ".....and the passion we know"

He underlined passion and added an exclamation mark.

My hubby is a romantic. He really is.

I was swooning with his special punctuation and his emphasized verbiage.

The rest of the passion page read like this;

"when our bodies meet as one".


So it said in it's entirety, "and the passion we know when our bodies meet as one...."


Pretty bodice ripping for American Greetings.

What confused me was his comment under the last line.

He wrote, " Not as much as we used to but we're careful when we do".

Huh?

OH!!!

He must mean because of the arthritis and tight hip flexors!


I said to him with warmth and concern "It's hard to be "romantic" when you hurt. I understand. As we feel better we won't have to be careful not to hurt something".

He glanced up from the morning paper and said "What are you talking about?"

I replied, "I understand how you feel. But you really don't have to be careful with me, it's not like I am going to break."

"Though I appreciate the concern" I quickly added.

"I have no clue what you're talking about." he said. "Have you had your coffee yet?"

"Yes, I've had my coffee. It's right here on the card! You said we need to be careful when we "do".

"I did not."

"Yes. You did."

"Give me that card".

He takes the card and reads it.

He hands me the card.

"It CLEARLY says "not as much as we used to but wonderful when we do".

oh..

I swear it looks like careful....

So Another Birthday

My birthday is next week. I am going to be 47.



You did the math in your head didn't you? Three years from 50.



I think I'm good with that, for what exactly would the alternative be???



I buy different stuff these days. This last year I have been seduced more by advertising that claims to reduce, tighten, erase, smooth, and uplift. Those words make me reach for my wallet.



And cereal too.



My Cheerios seem so "old school". It may tout it reduces cholesterol but does it help with my calcium? digestion? immunity?, and how many anti-oxidants does it contain?



My oatmeal, the old fashioned cook on the stove kind, is experiencing a rebirth. It is very helpful for regularity (get used to that word for those of you under 40) and reduces cholesterol. My usual morning breakfast is oatmeal with bling. Bling is all the goodies I toss in; cinnamon, blueberries, flax meal, and a teaspoon of sugar in the raw.



Doesn't that sound hippie-ish? Sugar in the raw. Naked sugar.



Going out requires me to put stuff under my eyes, those circles and puffy pads aren't going anywhere by themselves ya' know. A Sephora finally opened here and I was there opening day with a big ole grin on my face. Found some eye brightener and some stuff for my jowls. It is lotion that tightens your face.. watch out trying to smile though. It's called "Thinny Thin Chin". Now doesn't that make you think of maybe it has to do something with hair?



Last night we went out to meet friends for dinner. I threw on a dress and sandals but didn't have time to redo my face to add my lotions and potions. But I did had time to shave my legs.



As I am shaving my legs, hubby comes over to me and says, " What are you doing?"



"Shaving my legs" I replied. Duh



"Why are you doing that?" he asks



"Because they need to be". I still am responding in a nice tone, no irritation reflecting in my voice.

"Well, we are just going out to dinner with them, it's not a sleepover" he responds.

Huh?? Apparently I am taking too long.

It's all the prep work these days. Somedays I think "OMG - I look so tired!" and I need to go to the store so I throw on work out clothes and pretend I have been working out. I mean, hey, this is coming from a woman who has not read a book called the "Hot Flash Club" because she didn't want anyone seeing the title, so the book has been in the closet untouched for over a year!

I did hit a goldmine with hubby. And I know it.

One day I was complaing about getting and looking older and he told me; "Honey, as you get older, my eyes get older, so you still look the same to me".

Jowls and all I hope.

Leave a Message After the Beep

Last night I had a meeting to attend so I was gone for most of the evening. It was late, a little after 10, when I returned and hubby was already in bed snoozing.

A few minutes later, I too was asleep.

This morning I got up and checked my email. It's part of my morning routine, like getting coffee and taking the dog out.

There was an email in my inbox that just plain says it all. It shows that women can spot the limitations of men in regards to taking and delivering messages.

1. Writing the message down accurately is not going to happen.

2. Saying "Sue called", may even be too much to remember.

3. Saying "Someone called you" might happen.

4. Saying nothing is probably more like it.


So when a friend of mine called and had some questions about color choices for a bowl set that I ordered, she immediately spotted that number four was the most likely occurrence in our home.

Her email to me was thus;

Hi. I tried calling this evening, but you weren't home . . . your husband and I agreed that leaving a message via email was better than leaving one with him :-)

She's pyschic.

Or just married herself.

So I ask him... "Honey, did anyone call me last night?"

He looks at me for a moment and then says, "Yeah, some lady about some bowl thing."

"I know, she sent me an email saying she thought it was best not to leave a message with you. Now why would she do that? What did you say on the phone?"

"Well, she gave me her name and I didn't recognize it, I still don't know who she was, and then she started rattling off stuff about bowl colors and when she was done she asked if I understood."

"And then what did you say?" I asked.

"At first I didn't say anything, it didn't make any sense to me. So I just said okaaaaay. It was all mumbo-jumbo to me."

"So she told you she would just email me?"

He replied, " Yeah, she said "Maybe I better email her" and I thought that was a good idea and told her okay why don't you do that?"

He looked at me for a minute and said "Why what's the problem? You got the message didn't you?"

Well, he's right.

Can I have your card???

I don't get how I made it to 46, almost 47, without having at least 4 or 5 annual doctor appointments a year.

The last couple of years I have accrued more doctors that a new practice.

And thank God for Outlook - I can't even remember to write down checks in the register and had to go to duplicate checks. How can anyone expect me to remember an appointment???

Give me a card.

For my multitude of doctors, I have a multitude of cards.


My chiropractor gives me a card.

My eye doctor gives me a card.

My dermatologist gives me a card.

My orthopedist gives me a card.

My internist gives me a card.

My back doc gives me a card.

My ob/gyn gives me a card. (feels silly even typing the "ob" part anymore - if you ask hubby it should be the meno/gyn doc.)

Oh! I forgot the dentist and the orthodontist. Yes I have both.

If you have a pain or a funny looking mole, call me, I know a doctor.

And cards are good for other appointments.

Cards from my massage therapist, cards from my hairdresser, cards for this and that.

What I need to do is make up little appointment cards and hand them out to all my friends so I will never miss another lunch or dinner. (which I did recently to my deep and utter embarrassment)

I keep cards from plumbers, electricians, painters, gardeners, decorators, anyone I might need someday for something. I have a box of cards in my closet and a drawerful upstairs. I really need one of those card albums so I can arrange them. (hmm if any of our children is reading this what a wonderful idea for a gift!)

I even bought cards with our name on it so that I can slip them in gifts.

Cards, cards, cards... a most wonderful thing.