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No Bimbo’s for me, thank you

September 1, 2011 by

We don’t watch a lot of television these days.  There isn’t time for it and, honestly, there is very little reason to.  When we get into our house we won’t even hook cable up and I don’t think anyone will miss it.

In the mornings, the kids enjoy Animal Planet. Steve the Crocodile Hunter makes us all laugh…and cringe a little.  In the evenings, every once in awhile, we turn on re-runs of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. It makes us all cry.  Tonight, as the show ended, the network began airing a preview of the next show to air.

Sweet Home Alabama.

Not the adorable Resse Witherspoon movie.  No, no.  This was yet another ridiculous time suck of a reality show about a group of over bleached, over tanned, under dressed girls from (I can only assume) Alabama.  I immediately changed the channel.  Little House on the Prairie – the only insanely pure show still played on television, although sadly the commercials are so horrible that I had to keep changing the channel to the Catholic Reading Hour every time the show took a break.

Ha!

“Mom, why can’t we watch that?” Sloan asked as I muttered under my breath.

“Because there’s no reason to watch a show about a  bunch of bimbo’s,” I replied.  “I’m not raising a bimbo.  I’m raising a strong, confident girl who doesn’t think that life revolves around boys and spray tans.”

And I mean it.

This is not meant to offend, but here’s the thing.  I loathe reality TV.  Loathe it.  *hear me snarl* Outside of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition (which even the excess of that show gets on my nerves after awhile…because I am, apparently, a robot), I can’t stand a single reality show.  They make me bonkers.  Nicole said it a couple of weeks ago and I will reiterate the same point – everything that’s wrong with our society is showcased in reality TV. Everything.  And we put it on display for the whole world to see.

Is it any wonder America has lost so much respect in the world?

Jersey Shore. Real Housewives of Such and Such (AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH – NOT REAL NOT REAL NOT REAL).  Sweet Home Alabama.  Russian Dolls (are you kidding me?).  Big Brother.  The Bachelor and it’s spawn The Bachelorette.  I know, I may have just broken some hearts.  Unfortunately, this list of absurdity could go on and on.  And on.  And ooooooooonnnnnnn.

Selfishness, greed, hatred, lust, gluttony, deceit, anger, malice, jealousy, guilt and plain old stupidity – all of these highlighted for entertainment’s sake.  And when I see a clip of a bleach blonde girl Valley Girl chatting into the camera I want to throw a shoe through the TV then take my daughter out and teach her how to be a real REAL woman.  I want to teach her to play sports and love people and respect herself and care for the hurting.  I want to tell her that life is more than boys and clothes and fame and notoriety.

I want my boys to know that what makes a woman beautiful is not the length of her skirt but the love she has and shows for others.  I want my boys to respect women more than the men on those shows respect them.  I want my daughter to respect herself more than those women respect themselves.

I have to check myself when I begin to rant on these shows.  Because the fact of the matter is this: I can disconnect cable and make sure my children are never subjected to the horror that is reality TV, but unless I’m modeling what it means to be a woman of grace, peace, love and maturity to my daughter, she will never know it.

If Lee doesn’t model to the boys what it means to look like, act like and behave like a real man then they won’t know.  If he isn’t showing them how to respect women and how to love a wife, they won’t know.  It doesn’t matter what’s on TV – our kids have to see it modeled from us first and foremost.  That’s the real challenge.

That and making sure that none of that smut gets into our home.

*steps meekly off soap box and slides it back under the bed*

Ahem…

Filed Under: Family, Kids, Lee, Life, Motherhood, the boob tube Tagged With: , ,

On Eve, Valentino and that Juicy Red Apple

August 29, 2011 by

The heat of the day made the walk pleasant, the sun lighting my face and quickening my step.  An unexpected blessing of a weekend, added to my list of gifts, made my steps light – my heart full.  Life, when looking through the glasses of thankfulness, is no more than a series of gifts strung together.  Thank you, Ann Voskamp, for helping me to better see and understand that.

I walked Rodeo Drive with wide eyes, unaccustomed to strolling amidst such wealth.  I came upon the Coach store and stepped inside, the girl in me clapping her hands with excitement.  I don’t even carry a purse – never have.  But I appreciate them and have convinced myself that I could learn to love it if the purse was made of spun gold, as I imagine the Coach purses to be.

I strolled and oohed and aahed.  I touched, but only with one finger.  There were no prices on the shimmery bags, a clear sign that I was out of my league.  But the looking was all I needed.  I lowered my ten doller sunglasses back down over my eyes and continued my walk.  I stepped into the Yves Saint Laurent shop and a sales person walked up to me with a smile.

“Can I help you find anything in particular?” she asked, her white California teeth glistening in the golden California sun.

“No,” I replied.  “I’m just here to dream.”  I didn’t ask her to tell me exactly how to pronounce the name of the store.  Didn’t want to seem that much of a country bumpkin.  Yez Saint Laurent? Y’ Vez Saint Laurent?  Vez Saint Laurent?  Is there a silent Y?  I JUST DON’TO KNOW!

And she smiled knowingly.  I think a lot of people come into these stores to dream, and maybe touch with one finger.

I moved on.  Gucci.  I found an outfit for Tia and texted Lee.  “For one month’s mortgage, I can get Tia a spectacular outfit at Gucci.  Whatcha think?  Huh?  Huh?”  I finished it with a good old fashioned smiley face emoticon so he wouldn’t know I was serious.  Didn’t want to send the poor man into panic mode thinking the glitz and glam of tinseltown had gone to my head.

He, shockingly, responded with, “Nyet.  No.” Oooohhh…No in two languages.  He was serious.  Maybe he didn’t understand my emoticon?  I moved on.  I came to Valentino and stopped, sucking in my breath.  The gowns in the window were stunning.  Really, really stunning.  I stared for a long time, my heart racing, before finally pulling myself away.  From there I walked to the GAP and bought a pair of shorts for 50% off.

That’s how I roll.

As Lee and I drove home from church yesterday, me in a zombie-like stupor from lack of sleep (the red eye flight home was not my friend), I mentioned my momentary affair with Valentino’s gowns.

“What is it about those gowns that makes them any different from a dress you could buy at Banana Republic or Dillards?” Lee asked.  And then I cried in shame.  Naw…I kid.  But I do think my eyes spaced out for a minute.  “As a girl, when I see those gowns I immediately begin to dream,” I answered all mooney.

“About what?” my manly man asked.

“What it must be like to even have an occasion for such a dress.  What it must feel like to be a princess for a night.  How it would feel to slip one of those gowns on and walk out the door.  I just…dream.”

“And the Coach bags?”  Lee asked.  “What is it about them that makes them any better than a purse from K-Mart?  Is the functionality any different?”

Hmph…Boys.

“No.  The functionality is not that different, except that maybe a Coach bag will last forever and a K-Mart bag will last six months.  But that’s not the point,” I answered.

“So what’s the point?”  I could sense his consternation.

“The point is, Coach bags are so preeeetty.” And then I sighed.  They are pretty.

We drove in silence for a few minutes before Lee spoke again.  “This is why the serpant went after Eve in the garden, you know,” he said with a grin.  “He held that shiney red apple up and Eve immediately felt her heart grow mushy.”

I wanted to deny it, but I couldn’t.  He’s right.  Shiney things make us girls act…like girls.

“And Adam is like every other guy who loves his girl in the world.  She held it up and told him she wanted it and he just nodded his head.  I would have said yes, by the way, if you called me up from LA and told me you wanted to buy a Coach bag.  Because I want you to have that princess feeling and I want you to have nice things that make you happy.”

Go ahead.  I know you want to say it.  Aaaaawwwww…

It’s amazing what power we as women can have over our husbands, isn’t it?  Knowing that they do want good things for us.  The Prince wants to take his Princess to the ball, to show her off.  My point here, of course, is not whether or not purchasing a Coach bag or a Valentino gown is right or wrong.  I don’t have any problem with people doing either one of those things.  For me, at this phase of life we’re in, such purchases would not be wise.  It would place unnecessary financial burden on us.  But maybe someday…

The point is this: My husband (and probably yours) would do whatever it takes to make me feel like a princess because he wants to give me the Garden. He wants me to have the best and if I’m not careful, I could manipulate him in such a way that I got all the pretty things I ever wanted.  But…at what price?

“I don’t expect those things from you,” I told him quietly.  “I wouldn’t be comfortable in a $1,500 dress anyway.  But it doesn’t mean I don’t want to dream every once in awhile.”

The truth is, I’m not sure the apple is always worth it.  It sure wasn’t in the garden.  The apple was beautiful, a vibrant red shining in the warm afternoon sun.  A diamond.  Eve touched – with just one finger?  Unfortunately she didn’t stop there.  She plunged her teeth into the center and I have no doubt that apple tasted as good as it looked.

But the price was far greater than she imagined.

It’s a loose analogy, but the point is this – we ladies have more power than we realize over our husbands.  Your man wants to be your Prince – what is the price he must pay to do that?

Image Credit

Filed Under: Family, funny stuff that happens, Lee, Life, Marriage, Travel Tagged With: , , ,

Whispers

August 2, 2011 by

Image Credit: www.moopandsaba.blogspot.com

“I have a secret,” he whispers. Or a “theekwet,” in his lispy language.

“What’s your secret?” I ask, leaning down so my nose is inches from his freckled face.  (Oh how I love his dotted little nose.)

“I wub you,” he answers with a grin.

And then I melt.  And promise him all the Cheezit’s he could ever want.  And a pony.  And his sibling’s inheritance.

How is it that children know the exact words to say when we need it most?  I was tired this morning, and a little crabby.  I wanted to sleep  longer and wake up happier.  My yummy little guy was actually still waking up himself and had snuggled his warm body close, his sippy cup tucked under his arm.  (Because my third born does not function in any capacity in the morning without a sippy cup of juice or milk first.  He’s a toddler coffee addict…without the coffee.)

How did he know that I just needed some kind of encouragement to get the day started?  When I pulled back from our “theekwet” he grinned at me slyly.  He’s a heartbreaker that one.  Mama’s lock your doors, cause this kid is trouble. Adorable, squeezable trouble – the most dangerous kind.

There have been so many encouragement’s these past few days.  Are you guys praying?  Because I am feeling the power of God working in ways I didn’t imagine.  Tangible delight being poured upon us.  From “theekwets” to the making of new friends.  From house hunting encouragement to just an overall feeling of contentment.

Today, I went with Lee to the bank to be added to our new account.  The woman who helped Lee last week when he first went in wasn’t available, but another woman was there to help us.  Her name was Ekaterina, or Katya – her accent was Russian.  After we sat down, she left the room briefly and Lee looked at me with eyebrows raised.

“Hmmm…” he said, all smug-like.

“Don’t, please,” I groaned.  “I don’t feel like it.”  You see, friends, my husband feels the need to tell every single Russian we ever meet that his wife speaks Russian.  Then he slaps me on the back and tells me to talk.  It’s not my favorite.

But I’m also really grateful to him for it.  Because, honestly, my personality is one that I would let all those opportunities just slide right by because it makes me a little uncomfortable and embarrassed.  And this morning…well, the “theekwet” hadn’t totally burned off my crabby mood.

When she returned the firs thing Lee asked was where she was from.  “Russia,” she replied in the accent that is so familiar to me.  “Huh,” he said, looking at me.  I sighed and turned and began speaking with her in Russian.  And you know what?

It was awesome!

Why do I resist that sexy man of mine?!

So my new friend and I will be getting together sometime soon to go shopping at some local Russian stores.  And it was yet another whisper – a “theekwet,” if you will – that everything is going to be okay.  I love making Russian friends.  Love it, love it, love it.  And I would have completely passed that opportunity up today had it not been for my annoying supportive husband.  And God once again whispered to my heart.  “I’ve got you covered, young one.  Just enjoy the ride…and stop complaining when your husband brags on you.”

I feel like I’m getting a lot of those whispers lately.  And a few slaps upside the head.

Moving is hard.  But right now, in this moment, I’m kind of enjoying the ride.

Thank you for riding this roller coaster with us and praying us from one side to the other.

*For more awesome pictures of my kids, and my nephews, visit my sister-in-law’s blog.  Not only is Becke’ an amazing photographer, but she is a spectacular writer as well.  She inspires me.  You can see more of her photography here.

Filed Under: faith, Family, Florida, Kids, Lee, Life Tagged With: , , , ,

Living Life: Practicality vs. Wisdom

June 14, 2011 by

There’s a certain thing that happens when you become a parent.  It happens in different degrees and forms for everyone, but we all experience this phenomena:

We become practical.

It’s just natural for a certain amount of practicality to set in once that bundle of joy lands on your doorstep.  Suddenly life takes on a whole new meaning.  That money you used to spend on late night Sonic runs now gets applied to diapers or formula or a set of plastic keys for your little one to rattle.  And you forget what it was like to dash out for a snack at 11:00 at night anyway because, you know, practically speaking it’s not wise to leave the baby home unattended.

Practicality.

Where life was once an adventure, now you have to think about jobs and income and houses and schools.  You have to consider how your decisions will affect not only yourself or your spouse, but also your child or children.

Practicality.

Some people are very good at remaining spontaneous, even with children in tow.  Have you heard about the family that is driving around the world, living nomadically, raising their children on the road?  They’ve been on the road for 11 years, all four of their children born in a different country.  I don’t desire that life, but I envy their courage.  What they’re doing isn’t practical, but it’s pretty dang cool.

Or this family, whom Lee met recently on an airplane.  After adopting a little girl from China, they felt a strong prompting from the Lord to return to their daughter’s birth country and open up an orphanage for special needs children.  So they went.  They packed up their three young children, sold all their possessions and went.

“What organization did you go with?” Lee asked.

“No one,” came the astonishing reply.  “We just asked the Lord to provide and He has.”  Through charitable donations, they have raised enough to build a five story building where they currently house 34 children with various special needs from cleft palates to cerebral palsey.  And they’ve never asked for a cent.

That’s not practical.  But it’s pretty dang spectacular.

I used to fancy myself a bit of an adventurer.  I didn’t think twice about hopping on a plane as a 20 year old and exploring the former Soviet Union on my own.  I didn’t flinch when I spent 36 hours on a train to Prague by myself, half the time trapped with a horny Iraqi German (I know…).  I relished walking the streets of London by myself.

When Lee and I went to Europe last year, I once again found my adventurous roots.  I loved not having a plan, living in the moment, exploring, living.

But I’ve felt trapped in practicality for awhile.  This isn’t a bad thing, in some regards.  Obviously parenthood requires a certain amount of practicality.  We have to provide for our children.  We have to give them stability and they do need a certain amount of material possessions to feel secure.  Of course, our Western world children (as I’m sure yours as well) have far more than they need for security and stability, but as a parent I want to give them good things.  Just as I know the Lord wants to give me good things.

But I’m a little tired of feeling held back by practicality.  Because there’s a very fine line between practicality and fear. And I think that sometimes?

I blur that line.

I’m not going to act on passion because I tell myself it wouldn’t be practical for my family.  But really, I’m just too scared to try it.  I’m not going to follow a dream because it would be terribly impractical to do so.  ‘Fraidy Cat! As a couple, Lee and I always talk about all the cool things that we’d like to do with the kids and expose them to, but most of them seem too lofty and impractical to really pursue.

We’re scared.

What will people think?  What if it takes us out of our comfort zone?  What if we fail?  What if it requires us to leave all that we know?  Where is the practicality in that?

Here’s the thing: I don’t think God calls us to be practical.  I think He calls us to be wise.  We are not to live in fear.  “Do not fear, for I am with you; Do  not anxiously look about you for I am your God.”  Isaiah 41:10.  We are called to wisdom, not practicality.  Men are called to provide for their families, and that will look differently for everyone.  For some, that means a stable job in a good home where they can minister to, and meet the needs of, those in their local community.  For others still, that means selling all you have and leaving.

One of those scenarios is practical, one is not.  But for the two men who are guiding and leading their families according to God’s calling placed in their hearts – both are wise.

Does that make sense?

So Lee and I together are working on, and learning, to let go of the shackles of practicality.

Walk in faith.

Live in wisdom.

Cry out to Jesus.

Do not be afraid.

That last one’s a doozy.

Filed Under: faith, Family, Lee, Motherhood Tagged With: , , ,

When Daddy Explains

June 12, 2011 by

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I was on the phone last week, pacing the driveway.  It was a beautiful day and the kids were all napping or resting.  I just needed some air.  As I spoke with my friend, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye.  I turned in time to see Sloan marching by with a twelve foot ladder tucked snuggly under his arm.  He didn’t even glance my way as he walked past, his face cool and nonchalant.  As if carrying around a ladder was normal.

I swear, if that kid had a stuffed tiger I would be living with Calvin and Hobbes.

“Um…I think I should probably hang up,” I said to my friend as Sloan set the ladder down next to the corner of the house and popped it open.  He looked up at the roof, his hand shading his eyes slightly.  I managed to reach him just as he stepped on the third rung, the ladder wobbling precariously on the slanted driveway.

“Whatcha doin’?”  I asked, grabbing hold of the base of the ladder.

“Oh, hey Mom,” Sloan said, still playing cool.  “I’m checking out the bird’s nest up here.”

I looked up and sure enough, there was a nest just underneath the roof.

“Can I?” he asked, looking down at me with his penetrating blue eyes.  Then he grinned.  Stinker.

“Yes,” I replied.  “Be careful.”

So up he climbed to the top rung and he peered over the side of the nest.

“There’s a baby bird in there!” he screeched.  Seriously screeched.  My ears are still ringing.  “It’s so cute!  Aw, Mom come see the baby bird!”

So we switched places and I climbed the ladder with him holding it steady.  Inside the nest was a tiny, newly hatched baby, it’s beak pointed upward, waiting for nourishment.

“Can I see it again?” Sloan yelled, shaking the ladder for effect.  Nice.

He climbed back up and looked in again.  “This is so freakin’ cool!” he yelled again.  To which I reminded him that I was only a few feet below and he didn’t need to scream.  Then he reached for the bird.

“Don’t touch it,” I cautioned.  “If the Mama bird comes back and smells you on her baby, she’ll leave him and he’ll die.”

With one last look and a wave, we pulled the ladder back down and headed on with our day.

Fast forward to this afternoon when we’re driving home from church.  Sloan pipes up from the backseat.  “Hey Mom.  I don’t care if it dies, so when we get home can I get the ladder out and pick up the baby bird and keep it?  I’ll get it worms and I’ll take care of it.  Can I raise the baby bird?”

“No,” I said.  “It’s Mama would be sad.  And we really don’t know how to raise a baby bird.  It’s better if we leave it alone.”

“But I can take good care of it,” came the anticipated protest.

“Hey Buddy,” Lee said, glancing into the mirror.  “You don’t need to try and raise that baby bird.”

“Why?”

“Well,” Lee said, and he paused.  “It would be like a bear coming to our house and seeing you and saying ‘I want to take that little boy home and raise him.’  Bears don’t know how to raise little boys.  That bear wouldn’t know how to feed you – he’d probably just give you raw meat or raw fish, like he eats.  And if he tried to hug you or give you a kiss, he’d probably claw you to death or bite off your nose with his sharp teeth.  Bear’s aren’t meant to take care of little boys just like little boys aren’t meant to take care of baby birds.”

This is the part where I begin clutching my sides, I’m laughing so hard.

“And bee’s should take care of bee’s, wight?”  Tia chimes in.

“Right,” Lee replies.  “Bears take care of bears, bee’s take care of bee’s, bird’s take care of bird’s–”

“And people take care of people!”  Sloan interrupts.

“That’s right!”  Lee pumps his fist in the air.  “Homosapiens take care of Homosapiens.”

And THAT, folks, is what happens when Daddy decides to explain.

The End.

Filed Under: Family, funny stuff that happens, Kids, Kids do the darndest things, Lee, Sloan Tagged With: , ,

The Pick-Up Game

May 30, 2011 by

Did you know that my man was a star basketball player in high school and in college?

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He would never tell you that because he’s too humble and he wouldn’t want to brag.

I don’t mind bragging about him, though.

Did you know that my husband was asked to play professional basketball in Germany right before we got married?

We said no.

It is perhaps our biggest regret.

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Not that we regret the way our life turned out.

The decision we made led us down a different path of blessings.

But the reason we declined that opportunity is cause for regret.

We said no because we were scared.  We were babies and marriage felt monumental enough.

Moving to Europe didn’t feel safe.

That’s a terrible reason to say no.  Fear is never a good reason to dismiss opportunity.

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Did you know that my basketball man still has game?

He’s humbled more than one teenager on the court.

He’s not afraid to humble the college boys, either.

He gets a little more sore after playing than he used to, but he’s still got skills.

Did you know that my basketball man can not say no to the game of basketball?

Even if he’s bone tired and has had a long day working…

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if Sloan asks him to play ball, he will say yes.

And you will probably find two or three neighborhood boys out there with him, too.

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He always shares the ball and makes sure everyone, right down to the littlest one, gets a turn to dribble and shoot.

He also…

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makes sure they know…

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the old guy’s still got it.

Happy Memorial Day!

Filed Under: Family, funny stuff that happens, Kids, Lee Tagged With: , ,

Don’t Go Chasing Waterfalls

May 26, 2011 by

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Last night we watched the American Idol finale.  We haven’t watched American Idol all season so we had no idea who the finalists were, but we knew that the final show was bound to have good entertainment.

It had excellent entertainment, if slightly inappropriate for young eyes.  What the heck was up with J-Lo’s dress and dance?!

Yes, the show was good.  Only Idol could bring together Judas Priest, Kurt Franklin and Gladys Knight all within a ten minute time span and make it work.  But I must say, the real entertainment did not begin until TLC walked on stage.  When they announced it Lee looked at me with wide eyes.

“TLC is coming on stage?”

“Who’s TLC?” Sloan asked.

“TLC is old school, son,” I replied.  “They were popular when I was in high school.”

“They were popular was I was in high school!” Lee said with a laugh.

When they hit the stage Lee’s shoulders immediately began to shake throwing me back to 1999 when I first entered a dance club with my soon to be husband…

*squiggly lines* *dream sequence* *squiggly lines* *dream sequence* *squiggly lines* *dream sequence*

I stood in line outside the club with the man who had not long ago professed his love for me.  We were waiting to get into Midnight Rodeo, the hottest dance spot in Waco, Texas.  At least I think it was still called Midnight Rodeo – the name of the club might have changed at this point.  This part of the dream is a little fuzzy.

“Why is it so crowded tonight?” Lee asks the couple in front of us.

“Vanilla Ice is going to be here tonight,” the guy replies, his cigarette bouncing between his lips.

“Seriously?” I say.  “Did Vanilla Ice have any other songs besides Ice, Ice Baby?”

We finally paid our admission into the club and, for the first time, I am able to enter without being branded with a giant X on the back of my hand by a Sharpie wielding bouncer.  I’m 21 now so I don’t have to be branded anymore.  How cool am I?

We start the night by watching the two steppers in the middle of the hard wood dance floor.  Lee and I marvel at the size of the mens belt buckles.  The only thing that rivals them is the womens hair.  After watching for awhile, we decide to try and join the ranks.  We don’t know how to two step, but how hard can it be, right?

It’s hard.  Two stepping is country’s version of swing dancing.  There’s twisting and turning and their arms intertwine into four knots then they spin and unwind and Voila! They are no longer tied in knots.  All the while they’re two stepping their feet in a slow circle around the stage.

We try for one song and decide to quit embarrassing ourselves.  But then Strawberry Wine comes on and everyone slows down, so we do too.  Because who doesn’t want to dance to Strawberry Wine, right?

After our slow dance, we head to a small room on the right where it’s just been announced that Vanilla Ice is about to take the stage.  We head inside and cram in with more people than I thought would care about Vanilla Ice.  And take the stage he does.

“He’s short,” I shout to Lee over the noise of the crowd.

“And he still has the same haircut!” Lee shouts back.

Vanilla Ice starts and it’s horrible.  His songs…they’re horrible.  They don’t make sense, every other word is the F-Bomb and it’s just terrible music.  We decide to leave when we hear it.

Bum dum dum dum da da dum bum

That’s the beginning strains of Ice, Ice Baby.  Couldn’t you tell?

And Lee freaks out.  He waves his hands in the air and then starts doing a move I’ve never seen before.  His fists ball up at his sides and his shoulders start shaking up and down.  I laugh and join in.

Alright stop.

Collaborate and LISTEN.

Ice is back with a brand new inVENTION.

Something. Grabs a hold of me tightly,

Pulls like a harpoon daily and nightly.

Will it ever stop? Yo!  I don’t know.

Turn out the lights and I’ll go.

To the extreme something something like a candle

Light up the scene somethingsomething like a vandal

DANCE.

I stop singing because I don’t know any of the words after that, but Lee does.  He know the whole. dang. song.  And he sings it while bouncing his shoulders up and down, his body moving to the rhythm.  It was hysterical and terrifying all at once.

After he woos me with his impressive knowledge of early ’90’s music, we head to the third room in the club where they are playing true dance music.  We take to the colorful dance floor and Lee continues to dazzle me with his impressive shoulder shake.  He shakes his shoulders to every song that comes on.  It is a move I’ve never seen before and I’m slightly baffled by it.  He accompanies the shoulder shake with a great deal of attitude in his face.  Lips pursed, brow furrowed, I’m a hip dancerman type face.

Sexy.

We dance until someone spills a large cup of beer in my hair.  As we leave I wonder if Lee’s shoulders are sore from all that bouncing.   Little did I know that the shoulder bounce is his signature move and he would bust it out anytime a song from his glory days (high school and college) came on…for all of eternity.

*squiggly lines*  *dream sequence ends*  *squiggly lines*  *dream sequence ends*  *squiggly lines*

As TLC sang last night, Lee’s shoulders shook out of habit.  It’s force of nature for him, you see.  But what I wasn’t prepared for was the TLC girls (what are their names) dance moves.

They were doing the shoulder shake!

“AHAHAHAHA!” I laughed.  “They’re doing your move.  It’s old school, baby!”

“THIS IS WHERE I GOT IT!” he yelled and jumped off the couch, his face full of attitude, his shoulders full of bounce.

Awe-to the-Some.


Filed Under: blast from the past, Family, funny stuff that happens, Lee Tagged With: , , , , ,

Handstands in Heaven

April 26, 2011 by

Alternately titled: Car Ride of Random

We were heading home from Russian school, altogether as a family (in our smokin’ hot minivan that we now officially own, no less.  HAWT!).  It was raining.  Again.  We were tired and a little hungry since I failed in my mom duties and forgot to pack us dinners to go.  But we were together as a family and  that made everything a little bit better.

“Hey Mom,” Sloan piped up.  “Why do girls always pick on me and bully me?”

“Probably because they like you,” I replied.  I know the girls in question and I’m not entirely sure that’s why they’re picking on him.  I think they’re just ornery, but I felt compelled to give the standard issue Mom answer as clearly directed in Article 16, Section C of the Mom’s Bylaws for Dealing with Difficult Questions.

Lee turned around and grinned at Sloan.  “Told ya,” he said.  It’s the standard issue answer for Dad’s as well, apparently.

“But why do they like me?” he asked.

“Because you’re cute and you’re smart and funny.  Why wouldn’t they like you?” I answered.

“Hey Mom,” Tia yelled from the back seat.  It was raining hard, we had to yell.  “When I go to school and I wike some boys, I’m donna bully dem, okay?”

*This is the part where I desperately thumb through the Bylaws. There are no instructions.  No INSTRUCTIONS!*

“No, you shouldn’t pick on boys,” Lee answered quickly.

“Why?” Tia asked.  “You said dats what girls do when dey wike boys.”

DARN THOSE STANDARD ISSUE ANSWERS!

“Just don’t pick on boys.  Treat others the way you want to be treated.”

WAM!  The Golden Rule.  Works every time…

“Hey Mom,” Tia yells again.

“Yes.”

“Can we do handstands in heaven?”

Laughter ensues, but then I look in the rearview mirror and see a very serious face.  She wants an answer.

“Well, I don’t see why not,” I say.

“I think you’ll be able to do all the gymnastics you want in heaven,” Lee answered.

“Hey Mom, LOOK!” Landon screeches from his seat.

“What?!”

“I saw a kangaroo back dere by da road.”

“You saw a kangaroo?!”

“Yeah!  Turn around.  Mom, turn around,” he’s quite serious.

Lee looks back at him.  “Did you see a kangaroo back there buddy?”

“Yeah!” He cries.

“Was it a real kangaroo?” Sloan asks craning his neck.

“No.  It was pwetend.  It was a pwetend one, Dad.”

And then we were home.

Who says riding in the car is boring?

Filed Under: Family, funny stuff that happens, Kids, Kids do the darndest things, Landon, Lee, Minivans, Motherhood, Russian, Sloan, Tia Tagged With: , ,

Scenes from a morning

April 21, 2011 by

It starts with one.

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Then another.

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A third stumbles in.

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A fourth comes bearing coffee.

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All before 7:00.  This is what dreams are made of…

Filed Under: Family, funny stuff that happens, Kids, Lee, Life Tagged With: , , ,

The Spoils of His Booty

March 11, 2011 by

Last Saturday, Lee and I joined sweet friends at an auction/fundraiser for their kid’s school.  We spent the first hour and a half perusing the silent auction items, wishing we had the money to bid on every item and reminding ourselves that we’re trying to sell and buy a house so keep your hands to yourself and don’t get into a bidding war because By God you might win!

When our friend Lauren, a sophomore at this high school, offered us the chance to purchase tickets giving us the opportunity to play the game Heads or Tails we decided this was a fun way to invest in the school without feeling guilty later.  So we bought two tickets for forty bucks.

And we were happy.

Midway through the auction, as we were sitting on our hands not bidding on items and trips and others such delights, the game of Heads and Tails was introduced.  Everyone who had puchased a ticket stood up and had to choose: hands on your head or hands on your…tail.  Lee chose tail, I chose head.

Tails won.

And on and on it went with Lee doing his best to read the odds and somehow managing to choose right every time.  And then it was down to two – Lee and another woman.  Being the gentleman that he is, he let her choose first.  She put her hands on her head, he put his hands on his backside.

The coin flipped and spun in the air, glittering and giggling as it danced back in the palm of the MC.  He flipped it over on top of his opposite hand and slowly pulled his hand away as one of the teenagers stepped forward to read the results.

Tails!

Everyone cheered.  I had a minor heart attack.  Lee turned red and laughed and nodded his thanks then came back to our table to sit down as everyone congratulated him.  “What are the odds?!” I said.  “Well, they’re 50/50,” said a man across the table.  Hardy, har, har…

“So what did I win?” Lee asked.

Well…

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It’s a terrible picture, but that there is our brand new iPad!  We are now the proud owners of a Mac product and we feel terribly cool because of it.  The kids are certain we won it for them and Lee has quickly come to realize that he actually won it for me.

This totally beats an oversized stuffed carnival animal.

So given that Lee won this by holding onto his backside, it’s safe to say his booty is a bit of a lucky charm.  Go ahead and rub it for luck next time you see him, if you want.

I’m kidding!  Don’t do that.  That would be weird and uncomfortable for everyone involved.

Filed Under: funny stuff that happens, Lee Tagged With: ,
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