The Sprinkler

A couple summers ago I was training very diligently for a half marathon. Though I would run early in the morning, the heat would often become so oppressive I would have to cut my runs short.

On one such morning, I had become so overheated that I changed course and began my run home after only a couple miles. As I ran through the sleepy streets, I couldn't help but notice how many homes had sprinklers running full tilt. They were drenching lawns with lovely, cold, and inviting water.

I was thirst-quenched. The sprinklers wrecked havoc with my dehydrated body. I focused on getting home where I would reward myself with a brimming glass of ice cold water.

But, as I passed house after house of sprinkler-soaked lawns my thirst became absolutely unbearable. I began to not only notice the sprinklers, but that the blinds were drawn on most of the homes. The people inside were still asleep with their air conditioners churning. My mind turned to that of a criminal. "Who would mind if I took one sip of water from a sprinkler?"

Well, these things never play out the way we expect them to in our minds.

I did indeed attempt to take a drink from a sprinkler. However, in my dehydrated state, the sprinkler I chose was one of those high-powered doodads that rocket-launch water across the lawn. They spray out with a rat-tat-tat-tat and then they fire back with a tattattattat! I bent over the sprinkler and tried to get any amount of water to stay in my mouth while the power of the blast threatened to launch a hole through my cheek.

It was in that very undignified position that I saw them. I glanced to notice the two slippered feet standing just inches away from my head. I shot up in a flash and came face-to -face with a most confused older woman. She looked perplexed and none to happy that I had tried to syphon a sip of her water. Her hands were on her hips and her pj's were covered by an old fuzzy bathrobe.

I stammered that I was sorry and that I was just incredibly thirsty but she spoke not one word. She just stared at me as I sprinted down the street with my thirst forgotten and my shirt sopping wet.

When I got home, I ran the hose over my head and sat on the patio. It took a few minutes for the me to grasp the hilarity of the situation and to have a good laugh. I thought that next time I should pick a gentler sprinkler, but then decided that next time I would be better off to carry my water with me.

My floors

I have heard that when it comes to housecleaning everyone has their "thing"; their one thing that matters. If that one thing is clean, all is well with the world. My thing is the floors. If I can walk barefoot on my floors without succumbing to grit, I can conquer the world! If my floors are dirty and grimy they will so haunt me that I can't accomplish a thing.

As I was tackling the floors today I realized what a story those tiles could tell. While I mop them and scrub them, there are little hints of life with children that are seemingly permanent.

When I open my closet, I see tiny drops of bright pink nail polish that remind me of the time that my daughter dropped the bottle and it shattered. While I cleaned up the most evident spots, I overlooked a few. They really don't bother me. They remind me of my precious daughter and her love of bling and beautiful.

In my front room, you will see googly eyes stuck to the floor. Every time I mop over them I am reminded that I really ought to scrape them up. But, then there wouldn't be anymore googly eyes on the floor. And, honestly, they make me smile. I don't know how they came to reside on my floor, but googly eyes are just fun.

There is also the streak of brown from when I vacuumed over a non-washable crayon and a patch of turquoise where some little artist decorated with a non-washable marker. The carpet in the kids' rooms is littered with colored sticker stars. I vacuum over and over them but they remain. They are all bits of evidence of life in my home. Life with color, vivaciousness, and Crayola products.

All these little blemishes just need a few moments of time to tend too. Yet they remain. I guess my decorating style right now is "Early Childhood in Progress." And, I am good with that because the floor isn't gritty. It may have googly eyes and modern art, but there is no grit to drive me crazy! And, I know that some day, the googly eyes will wear away and I will long for them. My house with be quiet and peaceful and I will long for the chaos of raising children.

Skippyjon Jones is muy, muy Excellentito!

I have just become a huge fan of Skippyjon Jones. I visited a bookfair at my son's school and picked up two different Skippyjon Jones title-itos. I am not sure if me or my children laughed harder as we followed the adventures of this Siamese Cat who fantasizes about being a Chihuahua and running with a wild gang, Los Chimichango's!

As I read the words, I found myself attempting to channel Speedy Gonzales to muster up my best accent. My accent was muy, muy lame at best but my rascalitos thought is was totally loco and insane-ito! My son even pleaded with me to read it again...yep, in his eyes, I was that good!

I ordered two more Skippyjon Jones books and have to admit I am pretty excited for them to arrive. With these and just seven more episodes of LOST, well, I am a pretty excited El Skippito Friskito myself-ito!

Mean Girls

Today, I had coffee with a dear friend from high school. As happens, we drifted apart to be reconnected just a few months ago by random circumstances. While enjoying our coffee we reminisced a bit about high school before catching up on our lives now...which with both agreed, are quite stellar!

As I left the coffee house, I started thinking about my high school days and drudged up some old memories that were probably better left buried. I recalled my skirmish with the "Mean Girls" who were once my friends. These "Mean Girls" - who we will call MG's because they don't really rate a full set of letters - were atrociously awful. The meanest MG was a girl named Ana...oh yeah! That's right! I am naming names! And, I can do this with confidence because I am pretty certain she is not one of the five people that read this blog.

Anyhow, Ana, was a spindly little wrench. She would whisper secrets about me to the other girls in our group while I was sitting right there. Once I called her out on it. With nerves so tense I thought I would vomit, I screeched, "Why don't you just say what you want to say to my face?" Well, that catapulted her to center stage where she unleashed a verbal lashing so harsh I honestly do not recall the words. I only remember her contorted face and being mesmerized by how large her mouth was as the words spewed out.

It was on this day that Ana had one of her evil minions deliver a note to me between classes. This is how lame high school is...the messenger had typed up the note in her typing class! Anyhow, all the girls...um...excuse me...MG's signed the note which declared that they were not friends of mine anymore. I remember looking at the note and being horribly embarrassed. I had just been kicked out of the lamest group on campus...in writing! I felt hot and nauseous...a theme of my high school years. But, I refused to shed a tear on campus

Whenever I choose to recall my high school years it seems this is the memory that pops into my mind. I recall the snotty look on Ana's face and the smirk of her messenger (her name was Jennifer by the way) as she handed over my walking papers. I tend to forget my friends like the one I met with this morning. I forget the times we laughed and had silly conversations and dreamed about how our lives would turn out.

Whatever happened to Ana? I am not sure. No amount of Facebook stalking has turned up information on her. I have seen her twice since high school. Once while Christmas shopping with my son when he was an infant. I was strolling through a shop when I heard her itchy voice talking to the cashier. She was talking about how her hair used to be long and actually had her high school picture in her wallet to show the cashier as proof. I thought that was weird because I certainly never carried around my senior portrait. The second time I saw her was outside of a home improvement store. My hubs and I had just loaded up our truck with whatever gear we needed to complete some forgotten home improvement project and Ana walked by with her dad. She caught my eye as I watched her pass and her reaction was to speak louder so I could hear her say, "so Denise says to him..." It was at that moment that I felt pity. I was hanging out with my family that I had created with my husband and she was walking with her dad and talking like a 30-year-old high school student...oh hey! That's like the cast of 90210!

I am so thankful for the few good friends I did have in high school. We have moved on and gone separate ways but it is a treat to reconnect with them and hear about their lives and successes. I will work on remembering the fun moments of high school and letting my memories of the MG's slip away. Maybe one day I will run into Ana again...perhaps I will ask her to show me her senior photo.

Rainy day

So, here I sit in my office watching the rain fall. I love the rain! I especially love the rain when I am inside and not splashing around in it. But, I love the sound of rain tapping the windows and the smell of rain when I step on our porch. I was thinking about other things I love and realize I am one lucky chick-a-dee!

I love the sound of my children laughing. They have these great belly giggles that spurt up from their very core. Their laughs are the sound of genuine delight and happiness.

I love having faith in a being greater than myself. I love praying and the comfort I feel knowing that God is at the wheel. It is hard to feel insignificant when I believe God created me to be specifically who I am.

I love my friends! I have such good friends from all walks of life. I love their differing characteristics and dispositions. I especially love my girlfriends who allow me to be my silly, dorky self!

I love scented lotions. I love a hint of scent rather than a dab of perfume which ultimately makes my skull cramp. It is fun and girly to slather on lotion that smells like cherry blossoms or raspberry buds.

I love living in the sticks...or on the fringes of the sticks! I love having a plot of land to traipse around on. I find joy in watching my son dig the biggest hole he can possibly dig as he searches for dinosaur bones. I relish in watch our dogs run the length of the property scouting out scents and traces of varmints. I love watching my daughter dance around in wildflowers while dressed up in a tutu and tiara.

I love old jeans, pony tails, and sloppy sweatshirts. All of these represent comfort, of which, I am a huge fan!

I love unexpected checks in the mails; e-mails from old friends; clearance sales on great merchandise; books I can't put down; laundry that is done; reading bedtime stories to my children; running without feeling winded; and a marinara heavy Italian meal.

And, I love my husband. I love that we don't always see eye-to-eye (and not just because he is taller) because it means we have maintained our individuality in our unity. I love that we both think we suck at the parent thing even though our kids are forming into amazing little people. And, I love that he loves me even when I am having a bad hair day; a bad zit day; a bad outfit day; or all of those days rolled into one!

The sun is starting to poke out and I am sad to see the rain go. But then I realize I also love the sun and again ponder my many blessings.

Things that are plain irksome!

I was just sitting here thinking about the lady at the movie theater that left the bathroom without washing her hands. Worse, she had a child trailing behind and she didn't wash her hands either. That is blatant filthiness in training! Yuck! As I mull over this scene, I am reminded of other things that just irk me to my core. Here are a few random things that really get my goat...

1. People who drive slow in the fast lane. Hello folks! There is a reason it is called the fast lane and you are not it! Move your taillights to the right!

2. Braggarts! Oh, you know who you are! You one-uppers! Everything someone says, you have to up them one. Here is the thing...you are in competition with people who are not in competition with you! Live and let live! Who gives a hoot about your gazillion accomplishments and graces? Certainly not people you have already told 10,000 times. Here is a thought...listen for a change. You might be surprised at what you hear and learn about those around you.

3. Sunday Christians. Oh, you bug me deep to my core. Just because you have accepted Jesus as your savior does not give you a right to act like a twerp everyday but Sunday. Just because Jesus forgave your sins does not mean you can continue to commit them everyday but the Sabbath. And, how about some tolerance? The last person that was perfect walked on water. If you are still swimming get a clue!

4. Dirty feet. Soap is a beautiful thing! I think if a person is going to wear sandals they should really thing about scrubbing their toes. And, it is winter...why are they wearing sandals in the first place?

5. Silver testicles hanging from pick-up trucks. What the heck? That is all I am going to say about these raunchy, tactless, heinous things.

6. People who drop the F-Bomb constantly. Um, here is a thought...GET A VOCABULARY!

7. Secret agendas. These fascinate me. I used to think that only in the world of Soap Operas could people formulate truly ludicrous plans and attempt to carry them out. People who plot to get revenge or devise schemes to bring others down...well, really, they need psychiatric help. There is just no excuse.

8. Butt cracks. In my day - oh, I sound so old! - girls didn't show butt cracks laced in thongs. Who thinks that is sexy anyway? The butt crack was sole property of the plumber. If you needed a plumber you saw the crack. I figure if he is fishing a toy out of your toilet, ill-fitting pants are the least of his worries. Girls, buy a belt or hike them up. Let's just add boxers to this category also. What is with the low-hanging pants? Why is it stylish for boys to look like they are carrying a load in their pants so heavy that their nasty old boxers show? I can't even begin to understand this.

9. Discovering my favorite jeans have been worn so much that they have a hole in the butt. Can't even do yard work in those. Yet, they still hang in my closet in hopes of some miraculous mending that is certainly beyond my skills.

10. Great books that end on the last page like a made-for-TV movie that wraps up in the last 2 minutes. I love a great plot but am annoyed with rapid-fire endings like the author simply had no other thoughts for the characters.

11. Stupid people in general. People who vote for issues without reading about them. People who go along with the majority because they can't think for themselves. People who disregard the law and do everything but bake a cake while driving their cars. People who drive drunk. People who abuse children and animals. People who laugh at the ill-fate of others. Eye rollers...those people who have no other way to express themselves than by rolling their eyes and truly believing that no one sees them do it. People who issue backhanded compliments. Like, "Oh you look so pretty for someone your size." Or, "Wow! This is a great casserole. I can't believe you made it!"

OK. Nine and 10 are a little silly. And, I know it is not my charge to change the world. I also know that I have no right to be so fully annoyed by the things above. But, sometimes things are just so incomprehensible that I find myself completely riled up. My only saving grace is my children. If not for them I would become one of the baboons of society that annoy me the most. I would become so irate that I would become an incomprehensible, stupid person. For them, I must keep it together. OK, so I don't always keep it together. But hopefully I can keep statements like "Mommy! Look at that weenie driving slow in front of us. Why doesn't he just move over?" to a minimum.

Ellie and the Toothbrush

Santa put battery operated toothbrushes in the kids' stockings this year. They were beyond thrilled! Mitchell got the hang of his toothbrush quite fast but Ellie has had trouble figuring out how much pressure to apply. She presses too hard. On hearing the gears begin to slip, I told her to not press so hard. She ignored my request and the grinding continued. I finally took the toothbrush away from her and told her I would have to start brushing her teeth again. She looked and me aghast and declared, "Mommy! You have ruin my life!"

I was quite surprised by this and said, "Ellie, I haven't ruined your life. I just took your toothbrush away."

She glared at me and said, "Fine! Then you ruined my heart!" With that she spun on her heel and walked away leaving me in stunned silence.

I wonder if this is training for the teenage years?