I am in Montana and away from all cave activity. I am in a remote little town and I have no internet connection on my lappy and really bad cell connections. But it is nice to get away from the cave. The cavemen are doing some serious bonding time,while I am visiting my best friend/adopted sister who just had a baby in Montana. We have had a great time together. She had a precious baby boy who has me totally wrapped around his cute little finger. Yes, Auntie Bonnie is spoiling him rotten. His daddy is a firefighter, so I have little baby suited for firefighter chief/mascot. Such adorable outfits, I couldn't resist.
He is such a precious little guy, but eventually he indeed will be a caveman. Yes, it is inevitable. All male species turn. No matter how us mothers try to make the sensitive side of our sons come out, they are destined to become cavemen.
My trip has been joyous to say the least. I have reconnected with my new adoptive family. It is always nice to have a big family. Especially, one you have adopted. They truly are great people, and I am happy to have them in my extended family. Too bad I don't get to see them more often.
My friend who just had a C-section and went through 20 hours of labor before that has recovered like a champ. She is truly a matriarch. Like some freakish woman, who we all envy. You know the one that just bounces back after having a baby. The one who returned from hell and back like it was nothing. I just adore her, and am glad we get mistaken for sisters. She is really my sister, even though, we are not blood related.
So signing off from MT.... I won't have internet until I get home...considering I survive the plane ride home. But I am sure I will as long as I pass out on the way home :)
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Friday, May 9, 2008
Happy Centennial Birthday Grandma Gracie
100 years ago today my Grandmother Gracie was born. She resides in the same town in which she was born. Talk about a woman who has seen change. Many of the things she used to own and photographs of days gone by are on display in a museum. My mother has scanned many photographs of the "good ole days". I enjoy viewing them from time to time. Amazed at the dresses, the hats, and the hair styles the women of the old west and frontier days wore. They were a very classy group of women.
My Grandmother has lived an amazing life. I am not sure what exactly her key to finding the fountain of youth has been. I attribute it to many things. I think the biggest thing is she has the spirit many women would love to capture. When people meet her she leaves a lasting impression. She is the coolest woman that I have ever met and I am lucky to call her Grandma.
This morning I called her to wish her a very happy birthday. I was her first caller. I'm glad I caught her when I did. I'm sure her phone was ringing all day long with birthday wishes from relatives and friends that adore her. She had plans to celebrate through out the day and the week. She's a very busy lady.
As we were talking I was telling her about my Kick Ball team. She said it sounded like fun and if she was 30 again she'd love to play on my team. I told she could still play, we'd just put her in the outfield and make sure she didn't have to do much running. She figured we'd better put her so far in the outfield that the other team wouldn't even know she was part of the opposing team. Then she said that lately these days she tires more easily and that was frustrating. She guessed now that she is 100 she'd best slow down the pace a tad bit. I snickered at her and reminded her that she indeed was 100 years old. In which she replied "Yep, you better live it up while you can, once you hit 100 it all starts to go downhill."
I thought I was going to pee my pants when she said that. I laughed so hard. I think that is the most positive endearing advice I have ever heard.
She is having a great big celebration in June when family and friends can take some extra time to spend with her and celebrate her life with her. I am looking forward to that. This time when I visit I am going to carry my video camera with me at all times. You just never know when she will get a wild hair and decide to let someone take her for a motorcycle ride. She did that last summer while were visiting. We had camera's, but only to take still photo's.
I think the two photographs of her I enjoy the most that show the true Gracie. The most amazing woman I know, are these two.
These show the classic yet strong woman she is. I am happy to call her my hero.
My Grandmother has lived an amazing life. I am not sure what exactly her key to finding the fountain of youth has been. I attribute it to many things. I think the biggest thing is she has the spirit many women would love to capture. When people meet her she leaves a lasting impression. She is the coolest woman that I have ever met and I am lucky to call her Grandma.
This morning I called her to wish her a very happy birthday. I was her first caller. I'm glad I caught her when I did. I'm sure her phone was ringing all day long with birthday wishes from relatives and friends that adore her. She had plans to celebrate through out the day and the week. She's a very busy lady.
As we were talking I was telling her about my Kick Ball team. She said it sounded like fun and if she was 30 again she'd love to play on my team. I told she could still play, we'd just put her in the outfield and make sure she didn't have to do much running. She figured we'd better put her so far in the outfield that the other team wouldn't even know she was part of the opposing team. Then she said that lately these days she tires more easily and that was frustrating. She guessed now that she is 100 she'd best slow down the pace a tad bit. I snickered at her and reminded her that she indeed was 100 years old. In which she replied "Yep, you better live it up while you can, once you hit 100 it all starts to go downhill."
I thought I was going to pee my pants when she said that. I laughed so hard. I think that is the most positive endearing advice I have ever heard.
She is having a great big celebration in June when family and friends can take some extra time to spend with her and celebrate her life with her. I am looking forward to that. This time when I visit I am going to carry my video camera with me at all times. You just never know when she will get a wild hair and decide to let someone take her for a motorcycle ride. She did that last summer while were visiting. We had camera's, but only to take still photo's.
I think the two photographs of her I enjoy the most that show the true Gracie. The most amazing woman I know, are these two.
These show the classic yet strong woman she is. I am happy to call her my hero.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Bubbles Taste Like Ice Cream
Today after a long tedious day making out with Excel Spreadsheets and formulas all day, I picked up my littlest caveman at daycare. I had to wait in the foyer so that my Mother's Day surprise wouldn't be ruined. My little man comes running up to me from the backyard of daycare and bounds over to me. He says "MOM! I ate 18 bubbles! They taste like ice-cream!".
Hmmmmm....I'm thinking they probably taste more like soap, but ok, I'll believe him. I don't believe I've ever bought Bubble Flavored Ice Cream. Mostly Vanilla or Chocolate, but maybe to him Ice Cream does taste like bubbles. Maybe that could be why he doesn't eat ice cream anymore. He likes popsicles, but not ice cream.
Since we are on the topic of Ice Cream....tonight my little darlings shouted "ICE CREAM TRUCK!!!!" They each grabbed $1.50 out of their piggy banks and dashed out the door like flashes of lightening. I wonder if they'd move that fast if the house was on fire?
Nothing gets in the way of going to the Ice Cream Truck. I ran to the door to see what they were getting. As I looked out the door, I see my two darlings on their bicycles turning the corner at the end of the block and headed off to chase an ice cream truck down the busy street.
Instant Mom heart attack! I took a step back and reminded myself to breath.I grabbed 2 shoes (I'm not even sure they matched, but at least they were both mine), grabbed my van keys, and got in my van & drove after them. I found them 3 blocks away from my house. Man they are fast on those bicycles! When demanding them to turn their little butts around and get home, they both looked at me as if I was speaking Greek.
"But Mom, we can hear the ice cream truck. We need popsicles from the ice cream truck". I explained that there are 2 boxes of popsicles in our freezer that were just as good. "Whoa, hold the phone! There is no popsicle better than the ones on that ice cream truck." My 2 little sad faces turned about face and slowly rode their bikes home like they'd just received the worst news in their little lives.
I'm wondering... Do they have bubble flavored popsicles per chance on that truck?
Hmmmmm....I'm thinking they probably taste more like soap, but ok, I'll believe him. I don't believe I've ever bought Bubble Flavored Ice Cream. Mostly Vanilla or Chocolate, but maybe to him Ice Cream does taste like bubbles. Maybe that could be why he doesn't eat ice cream anymore. He likes popsicles, but not ice cream.
Since we are on the topic of Ice Cream....tonight my little darlings shouted "ICE CREAM TRUCK!!!!" They each grabbed $1.50 out of their piggy banks and dashed out the door like flashes of lightening. I wonder if they'd move that fast if the house was on fire?
Nothing gets in the way of going to the Ice Cream Truck. I ran to the door to see what they were getting. As I looked out the door, I see my two darlings on their bicycles turning the corner at the end of the block and headed off to chase an ice cream truck down the busy street.
Instant Mom heart attack! I took a step back and reminded myself to breath.I grabbed 2 shoes (I'm not even sure they matched, but at least they were both mine), grabbed my van keys, and got in my van & drove after them. I found them 3 blocks away from my house. Man they are fast on those bicycles! When demanding them to turn their little butts around and get home, they both looked at me as if I was speaking Greek.
"But Mom, we can hear the ice cream truck. We need popsicles from the ice cream truck". I explained that there are 2 boxes of popsicles in our freezer that were just as good. "Whoa, hold the phone! There is no popsicle better than the ones on that ice cream truck." My 2 little sad faces turned about face and slowly rode their bikes home like they'd just received the worst news in their little lives.
I'm wondering... Do they have bubble flavored popsicles per chance on that truck?
Monday, May 5, 2008
My Little Yoda
I saw the little runt sitting there on a log
I asked him his name and in a raspy voice he said "Yoda"
Y O D A, Yoda
Yo-yo-yo-yo Yoda
Lyrics by Weird Al Yankovic
My little man has changed his name to Yoda. He has been gimping around the house telling us all "Let the Force Be With You", as he uses his water squirter tube as a crutch. It is pretty funny. He has been telling me for a couple of days that his knee hurts. I'm not sure if that is a Yoda characterization or what. I guess that is a mystery for me to unravel.
Every now and then when Sam wants to get out something because he is anxious, he can fake an illness like a champ. I don't know how many times last year I had him tested for strep throat because he was scared of reading a book at school. The book was about Monsters in my Closet. Instead of telling the teacher he didn't like the book, it scared him, he just pretended (quite well indeed too) that he was sick. He explained all the right symptoms. Needless to say all his strep tests were negative.
So onto solving the mystery of the "I only have one good leg". I did inspect both legs the other day and thought that the one he was complaining about looked slightly swollen. So I looked and looked and looked and decided maybe I was just seeing things. So I decided to just wait and see what the next couple of days brings.
This morning he woke up and limped around. I picked him up from daycare and he was walking just fine. I brought him home, he found his cane, and started limping again. So I'm guessing he is just doing some mighty good Yoda role playing. At least for now.
I asked him his name and in a raspy voice he said "Yoda"
Y O D A, Yoda
Yo-yo-yo-yo Yoda
Lyrics by Weird Al Yankovic
My little man has changed his name to Yoda. He has been gimping around the house telling us all "Let the Force Be With You", as he uses his water squirter tube as a crutch. It is pretty funny. He has been telling me for a couple of days that his knee hurts. I'm not sure if that is a Yoda characterization or what. I guess that is a mystery for me to unravel.
Every now and then when Sam wants to get out something because he is anxious, he can fake an illness like a champ. I don't know how many times last year I had him tested for strep throat because he was scared of reading a book at school. The book was about Monsters in my Closet. Instead of telling the teacher he didn't like the book, it scared him, he just pretended (quite well indeed too) that he was sick. He explained all the right symptoms. Needless to say all his strep tests were negative.
So onto solving the mystery of the "I only have one good leg". I did inspect both legs the other day and thought that the one he was complaining about looked slightly swollen. So I looked and looked and looked and decided maybe I was just seeing things. So I decided to just wait and see what the next couple of days brings.
This morning he woke up and limped around. I picked him up from daycare and he was walking just fine. I brought him home, he found his cane, and started limping again. So I'm guessing he is just doing some mighty good Yoda role playing. At least for now.
Friday, May 2, 2008
It's Kick Ball Season again!
It's Spring time and that can only mean one thing. KICK BALL!!
I play on a co-ed adult kick ball league. It is great fun. It's my one night a week that I'm not a mom, or a wife. I just get to be my free spirited self and have no worries at all. I get to feel youthful. It's even better than it was in elementary school.
I have been playing in the Kick Ball League since 2004. There are two season's per year. This is my 8th season. You would think that after 7 seasons I would have perfected the kick and the catch. News flash.....I have actually yet to make the perfect catch. I do try though. Most times I go for the catch it just bounces off me. I am just a shield for the big red rubber bouncy ball. I also have yet to kick the ball into the outfield. Down the 3rd base line is my favorite kick of choice. Unless I have a man or woman on 3rd, I'll kick it down the 1st base line and hope they drop or fumble the ball, so I can be safe at 1st. Yep, I am the sacrificial lamb. Take one for the team so we can get the score.
Winning isn't everything for our team. Sure it's fun, but most games don't always work out our way. But oh well, it's not like we are going out for the Olympics or ESPN. Our sweetest victory ever was the game between my team and a team that had gone undefeated for 3 years. They cleaned our clocks earlier that year by a whole bunch of home runs. Even their girls were kicking home runs and running like gazelles. When we beat them we ended up 10 running them in a tournament situation. They were not happy campers. After that sweet victory they befriended us. Now we play them for fun, but we haven't beat them since that day. But it's ok...Seriously...it's just kick ball. We play for fun, we play to keep in touch with our inner child.
The cave husband is not allowed to be on my team. Number one, he's way too competitive. Number two, he doesn't believe kick ball is a real sport. Number three, someone has got to stay home and help the kids with their homework and put them to bed.
I play on a co-ed adult kick ball league. It is great fun. It's my one night a week that I'm not a mom, or a wife. I just get to be my free spirited self and have no worries at all. I get to feel youthful. It's even better than it was in elementary school.
I have been playing in the Kick Ball League since 2004. There are two season's per year. This is my 8th season. You would think that after 7 seasons I would have perfected the kick and the catch. News flash.....I have actually yet to make the perfect catch. I do try though. Most times I go for the catch it just bounces off me. I am just a shield for the big red rubber bouncy ball. I also have yet to kick the ball into the outfield. Down the 3rd base line is my favorite kick of choice. Unless I have a man or woman on 3rd, I'll kick it down the 1st base line and hope they drop or fumble the ball, so I can be safe at 1st. Yep, I am the sacrificial lamb. Take one for the team so we can get the score.
Winning isn't everything for our team. Sure it's fun, but most games don't always work out our way. But oh well, it's not like we are going out for the Olympics or ESPN. Our sweetest victory ever was the game between my team and a team that had gone undefeated for 3 years. They cleaned our clocks earlier that year by a whole bunch of home runs. Even their girls were kicking home runs and running like gazelles. When we beat them we ended up 10 running them in a tournament situation. They were not happy campers. After that sweet victory they befriended us. Now we play them for fun, but we haven't beat them since that day. But it's ok...Seriously...it's just kick ball. We play for fun, we play to keep in touch with our inner child.
The cave husband is not allowed to be on my team. Number one, he's way too competitive. Number two, he doesn't believe kick ball is a real sport. Number three, someone has got to stay home and help the kids with their homework and put them to bed.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Attack of the dirty underwear
This morning we were getting dressed for our day. Sam decided to start running after me (and of course I ran away from him trying to hide or escape) threatening to throw his dirty socks and underwear at me. EW!!! 
Only a Caveboy would think that throwing dirty socks and underwear at his mother would be a good or even funny idea. He came lunging at me with the evil clown laugh and grin. "I'm gonna throw these at you!" He yelled with glee.
I really had nowhere to hide, so I jumped on my bed and hid under the covers. No way did I want his dirty socks and underwear touching me. Hopefully they were bacon strip free, but you never know. Which is exactly why boys underwear do not need to be flung around my house, especially in my direction. On the bright side...at least I know he's changing his underwear.
Only a Caveboy would think that throwing dirty socks and underwear at his mother would be a good or even funny idea. He came lunging at me with the evil clown laugh and grin. "I'm gonna throw these at you!" He yelled with glee.
I really had nowhere to hide, so I jumped on my bed and hid under the covers. No way did I want his dirty socks and underwear touching me. Hopefully they were bacon strip free, but you never know. Which is exactly why boys underwear do not need to be flung around my house, especially in my direction. On the bright side...at least I know he's changing his underwear.
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