Is It Cold in Here?

I used to have dreams all the time where I was topless. It wasn't like a dream where you are suddenly naked in a crowd of people it was much more subtle than that. I would be going out somewhere with friends and I would just decide that my outfit that evening was going to be a topless one. It was like "should I wear the black shirt or the brown shirt, Oh! I'll just wear the NUDE shirt." And so I would go out with my friends feeling quite the fashionista. I might get a little chilly and then I might realize no one else had the same color of shirt on as I did, if-you-know-what-I-mean. People would kind of stare and not in a "wow, look at those" kinda way. More of a "oh.... dear" kinda way. And then it would dawn on me that I was ok, a little embarassed by my fashion choice and, ironically, freezing my ta-tas off.

So I went to the gynecologist earlier last week. (This is where all of you male readers are jumping ship after my nudie ta-tas story.) I saw the nurse practitioner and I must say I had never been completely felt up in a less amount of time. I often see different nurse practitioners and I've found them all to be incredibly effecient but this lady had a gift. When I told Tim how fast she was he said "wow, that's faster than me." Kinda had to agree with him there.

So I knew when she said "ok, get dressed and I'll be right back" that I had to be quick. Like an idiot I started to dress by the order my clothes were laid on the chair. Underwear.... jeans.... knock on the door and in walks my nurse practitioner. So I act casual because while I'm not wearing a stitch of clothing on my top she had just been there, if-you-know-what-I-mean, so no big deal right? Well, as she hands me a flyer that has to do with, believe it or not, breast health, I start to get a little unsure of my semi-nakedity. I think it was when I put my hands on my hips in an attempt to suggest "yeah I'm half naked but I'm ok with that" that I realized, this really isn't right.

Fortunately because of her speedracer ability the whole incident didn't last long although honestly it felt like 10 minutes of my 15 minute appointment. She told me to "have a great day!" on her way to her next appointment as I'm casually trying to put my bra on in front of her. I think I might have even stopped and gave her a finger wave. I don't know I was feeling a little dizzy by then.

So what I guess I'm saying here is don't put your clothes on in the order they are laying on the chair after your yearly exam. It is possible that dreams really can come true.

Beef... It's What's For Dinner

I should be cooking chicken right now instead I'm here, blogging. I got the chicken out of the freezer, placed it in a microwave safe dish, defrosted it for 6 minutes and then left it. That was an hour and a half ago. I can't seem to get back to the chicken. I'm having a chicken aversion tonight. Go away chickie, chickie.

Not that I don't like chicken. I do. Chicken is tasty. I even like real chickens. Chickens are hilarious. This blog is starting to feel like a deja vu. I need to let the chicken go....

So things have been relatively calm in the Johnson household lately. I guess that's why I'm blogging less. I'm not in need of as much writing therapy. I think we've all finally adjusted to being back in school. My mom always said it takes two weeks to adjust to being out of school and two weeks to adjust being back in school. It has taken us, let's see.... I'm counting.... hold on..... 6 weeks. I think that's a record on the slow to change category of family dysfunction.

But we're finally here so I'm not going to complain. Well I might. Ok, here I go...

No, no, no. I'm not going there. Hey! Good news! Dancing with The Stars is back. Have you seen Maks? I have. Have you DVR'd Maks and played it over and over again? I have. Have you paused when there's a good shot of his pecs? I have. Have you tried to dance along with Maks pretending to be his partner in short shorts and a tank top? Ok, you need therapy. That's over the top.

Ok, I've wasted some time and liberated my Maks libido at the same time so now I'm heading back to the kitchen. I'm really not feeling like chicken anymore though. Wonder if I have some beef...

The Seven Stages of Grief

Sometimes life deals you a lethal blow and you have to adjust, learn to live with it, change your old normal to a new normal. Well, I think Olive can relate. In a desperate attempt to control my increasingly psychotic dog when we are on walks I have purchased a Gentle Lead. Since I couldn't find the harness style I got the one that slips over her snout. Now, mind you, this doesn't hurt her and she can bark, chew, lick (unfortunately) with the Gentle Lead on.

It's going to take a while to adjust to the feeling so I've compiled a short visual journal in this process.

Stage 1.....

Denial

Stage 2...
Depression.... No she's not sleeping (faker).


Stage 3...

Acceptance???

Stage 4....

"She can't make me go outside and she probably can't even see me behind this shoe."

Stage 5...

Denial in the yard...


Stage 6...
"Maybe I can squeeze myself under this gate, rip this thing off my head and go live in the woods with Lassie."

I realize there's suppose to be a 7th stage but frankly I don't think we're going to get there.

Birthday Bash

Well, the girls' birthday came and went. It was a full week of celebrating the 12 year mark. As a surprise for their birthday I redecorated their room. This was a bit of a challenge to pull off. The Saturday before their birthday Tim and I painted their room which they knew about. We painted the ceiling white (it was blue) and the walls a lovely shade of cream. Maya asked if that was it, just beige walls. I told her they were cream walls and maybe we'd get some colorful throw pillows or something. She looked at me like I was a pathetic excuse for a decorator.

So Monday night Tim helped me hang curtains and shelves in their room while they slept out in the family room. I locked the doors to their room Tuesday morning and said they couldn't go in because I had caulked and it smelled really bad. This was a fabulous excuse because they don't know what caulk is and they weren't really that interested so they didn't ask. I spent the day putting up wall stickers and dusting and rearranging and hanging up their ribbons and pictures on cork board a complete makeover with a zebra print rug. It took me all day. But of course I still couldn't let them in their room until Tim got home for the big reveal. Maya began getting suspicious but amazingly we pulled it off. At 7:00 we had the big reveal but we forgot to yell "move that bus!". Oh well...

This is the only angle I can show you because their beds haven't been made since reveal day.

Then that same night Tim took them to Target to buy a Wii with their birthday money and money they had been saving. All that excitement carried us until Friday when we sat down for Maya's requested birthday dinner of Kentucky Fried Chicken. Eva's was spaghetti and meatballs which we served at their party Saturday night. By the way KFC means Klean and Food-Free Colon to me from now on. I tried to tell myself how it's good to sometimes cleanse the colon even if it is 3:00am. Anyway... Tim's sisters Robin (and her daughter Emma) and Susan (and her fiancee Tom) came over to celebrate with us and Robin and Em brought all their fun Wii games. They brought their dance mat and I have an injury. And that's all I'm gonna say about that.

The Audience...

Of course, Emma ended up spending the night and the kids spent most of the day wrangling some kind of secure ticketed entry into our birthday party Saturday night...



It's amazing what you can do with jump ropes and Post-It notes.

The party was a hit. The girls had great fun and got some very nice presents (which I keep threatening to send back if they don't write their thank you notes.)


Sunday morning we got everybody up (mostly on time) for church to be followed by religious education. On the way to church I cut right to the chase and told them that they would be going to religious education directly after church and there would be ( and I quote) "under no circumstances a side trip to grab donuts. And if anyone puts up a fuss or asks for a donut at the end of mass I'm going to slug you. Understood?!" And then this is where Tim leans over from the driver's seat and whispers in my ear "by the way, it's their birthday." So, I immediately turn around and yell "Oh, and HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!" And for some reason they all looked at me like my hair was on fire and they were utterly completely speechless.

I wish I had a picture of that.

6 Days and Counting

I had an idea to do a countdown to Maya and Eva's twelfth birthday which is coming up - in 6 days. Twelve is freaking me out a little bit and I thought this might help on the acceptance level. I guess in my head I see "twelve" as "SIXTEEN". I know that makes no sense but in my brain it does because ever since I told Tim "in just four years they will be sixteen!" I haven't been able to get it out of my head. I'm adding four to everything. Isaac is really 10 (aacckk!!), I'm really 33 (it was worth a shot). No, actually that makes me almost 46!! OMG I'm freaking myself out. That makes me closer to 50 than 40 and then I really am middle aged. Right now I think that other people think I'm middle aged but I know I'm really not. (It's complicated, but it all works out in my head.)

Where was I? Now that I'm almost 46 it's getting harder to keep my brain cells functioning. Oh yeah, enough about me, so the girls are turning twelve in 6 six day and 16 in 6 days and four years. I think I'll just call it twelveteen. And I'm going to stick with 33.

College Bound

Somebody needs to let go of the camp songs. And when I say somebody I mean me. Summer is over, it's time to move on.

My nephew (and Godson) went off to college yesterday. He's the oldest grandchild on my side of the family so this a momentous occasion. His mom sent me pictures of them setting him up in his dorm room at Ball State. It all brought a tear to my eye. I would swear on my right eye that it was just a couple of years ago that I was babysitting Sam and buying him loud obnoxious birthday toys that would drive his parents crazy. How did this happen? How did 18 years go by in the blink of an eye?

I look at my kids all the time and wonder how we got here. (Sometimes I wonder why we're here but mostly I wonder how.) With Maya and Eva's 12th birthday approaching I find myself sometimes stopping, thinking and then freaking out. Last night I told Tim that in just 4 short years his daughters will be DRIVING. (That almost killed the mood...) It's at times like this when I have these realizations that I consider not feeding my children. Maybe we could just slow this whole growing up process down a little bit. I won't explain the birds and bees, I'll stop buying them new clothes for a year and we'll go live in the country, on a commune, without... anything.

But then 4 o'clock rolls around on a weekday and my house is impaled with loud children who are really good at doing everything but what they are supposed to be doing and destroying any calm and order or cleanliness that I have gained in the past 7.5 hours.

College here we come.

Wheeeeeeee......

Whewwowwhee!! Or whew-wow-whee. That's a new word I just made up to express my feelings after the first week of school. That means. Whew -I'm glad it's over, wow- that was a long week, and whee- as in wheeeeeee. (It's more of a expelling of my breath after I'd been holding it for a week.)

Before I get into all that I would just like to tell me friend Yoan (notice the extra-anemone, er, anonymity, or anonymousity.) I'm sorry to see you go, but I understand your dilemna. I think it's a smart move Scoan. (That one was Tim's suggestion.) I think it's best if I don't say anything more about leather "scapps" and matching "scests" made out of placemats. Oh yeah, and scogs. I think you know you'll be missed. We scove you - scotally.

I feel like the first week of school could best be described as "the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat." I'm not sure anyone was victorious but It's over and it hurt.

Seventy percent of the week was great. That must have been the 70% when they were actually at school. There was just that small percentage of incidents like Eva coming to the realization that she was in fact going to have to do homework after the second day of school. For some reason being in the sixth grade now I thought she would know this. I'm not sure why I thought that since I'm still telling her to brush her teeth every morning - and night. After about 20 minutes of an emotional breakdown (I'm talking about Eva, mine was much later and a little longer) she got over it and got it done. The next morning as she's heading out to the bus she yells at me "and mom, pray that I don't have any homework!" So I yell back "Eva, YOU ARE GOING TO HAVE HOMEWORK! PRAYING ISN'T GOING TO CHANGE THAT!" She wasn't quite sure how to take that.