It's Gonna Take More Than A Snow Cone to Fix This!

Snow Cones

Tonight, 7:45

My Driveway

Cherry, Grape, Blue Bubble Gum, and sugar-free Banana and Strawberry

As the kids deface the street and driveways with chalk, the best neighbor ever (BNE) confides that they have a job offer in Houston. They are leaving...2 weeks...I'm crushed.

You just can't place a value on a good neighbor. I've had bad neighbors before. A bad neighbor can seriously ruin your life...barking dogs, trashy lawns, mean kids...oh, I'm stressed at the prospect of it all.

BNE even has a great husband...Mr. Super Build-It, Fix-It, Landscape-It Man. And the great family doesn't end there...BNE has a great son, two years older than WB. He graciously includes my little boy in his games and outings. I've NEVER heard BNE's son say a bad thing, even in anger, toward WB. (Read that as: I've never had to say those dreaded words, "We don't talk that way in our house.") The final member of BNE's family is a little princess (4). She tags along with the boys most of the time and I was so looking forward to bringing a daughter home for her to enjoy. Where in the universe do a 9 year old, a 7 year old, and a 4 year old actually ENJOY each other?

When our lives get to be too much..when we're down or sad...when we just need to cuss and fuss, BNE and I hit the streets. We cruise the neighborhood, evaluating life, lawns, cars, curtains, even cracks in the street...we cope with husbands, kids, teachers, weight and sagging breasts...we strategize on decorating, traveling, paying off debt, getting plastic surgery and raising kids. (Oh...worry...worry...Color me the South Park character in the straight-jacket!

I can't possibly be this lucky again....

JB...call the realtor...we gotta sell...the neighborhood is going to pot...

Best Neighbor Ever, I will MISS you girl! You Rock and I'm blessed to know you!

A Blanket of Memories

The most important person in my life, prior to age 20, was my great-aunt Jewell. She was my grandfather's sister and she was amazing. Born in 1901, she was our family's first first college graduate and a true "Sooner." I was mesmerized by her stories of coming across the plains in a covered wagon. She outlived two husbands, and took over raising my mother when life became too difficult for my grandmother. Aunt Jewell never had children of her own, but she clung to my mother, and then to me, as though we were hers. My wonderful memories of my "Khaki" was endless and today I feel the need to reflect on her.


Aunt Jewell bought a brand new Cutlass in 19 and 70 with lovely striped, olive green interior. After driving it for a week, she promptly took it back to the dealership to have the radio removed because it distracted her while she was driving. Yes, they took the radio out and spray painted a metal plate which was screwed over the opening in the dash. Over thirty years later and this memory makes me howl with laughter. (Khaki, why couldn't you just turn the radio off??) Years later, after a family intervention to stop her driving at 84, she gave me the car but not before she had the seats reupholstered. (Who do you know that has reupholstered car seats????) Still in the lovely olive green family, the seats were now a lovely brocade paisley. Hence, the car was known by all my friends as "The Paise" and we spent countless hours cruising around with a boom box in the front seat because putting a radio back in it just seemed sacrilegious.


Finally, the memory which prompts my post today. When JB and I married (20+ years ago), among our wedding presents from Aunt Jewell was the comforter that we had registered for. (What was I thinking...beige with hints of peach and light green.) It has followed us around the globe and we still use it every night. It is long out of "fashion", but the comfort (both physical and emotional) has never been matched. Our son, WB, has become just as attached to it as I am since he either starts or ends with us almost every night. He never met our Aunt Jewell, she died 6 years before he was born, but he feels the love of this blanket every night..he even calls the blanket "Aunt Jewell." The blanket is now coming apart at the seams. (Don't think I haven't considered finding someone to refill and quilt it, because I have! I will likely do this, although I am sure they'll think I'm crazy to make such a request for a threadbare 80's comforter.)


Today, we bought a new khaki down blanket and we are gonna leave "Aunt Jewell" in the closet for a while. It was hard to get WB to agree, but he knows she still has a few good nights left in her...and we need to save those to share with our new baby sister.

First Grade Boys and Ice Cold Treats

WB...love of my life, joy of my soul...pain in my a$$...

If you were to meet WB, you'd likely comment on him being a "well-behaved", "good" little boy. He says please and thank you, and he at least excuses himself before he interrupts my conversation. He says "Yes, sir" and "No, ma'am"...he makes me so proud--it's probably a sin.

But then...he goes to school...he goes to school and becomes a different child. A child I've never seen (which is probably a good thing because I'd wring his neck!). Kindergarten was a snap...it's all good...an occasional caution on rough play, maybe he "lifted" an extra snack, and seems like he might have "offered" to kiss a little girl. He went to an all-day kindergarten, very structured, with homework. He was/is a lazy writer, but most little boys are.

It all really started in 1st grade. By week six, we were already in daily communication with his teacher. She couldn't believe the child we described, nor we the child she depicted. She clearly loves him, and he clearly makes many of her days long and difficult. She's the mom of four boys, he pulls strings that she didn't know she had and he has fully drawn her into his web. She says he's a "master manipulator" and I'm afraid he's destined for a life in politics. Long story, short version--school counselors, private counselors, testing, crying myself to sleep, WB crying himself to sleep, JB not having a clue about what to do with either one of us--conclusion, "he's smarter than your average bear." Seriously, like being smart is a license to misbehave. We eventually got on the right track (OK...didn't want to admit it was this "elementary", but "Love and Logic" does work. And my advise is to get the books before you get the kids!)

Well, Yogi...we still have occasional problems. Like today..."talking back to the teacher" "did not want to do his work." So tonight, Friday night, he has dinner, takes a bath and gets sent to bed at 6:30, but not before he watched me and JB make snow cones. (aka: Booth family summer dessert of choice.)

And he says, "thank you Mom for teaching me a lesson about not talking back to my teacher and thank you for teaching me about consequences." Pause...and he says..."I said, "Thank you Mom", as he eyes my Purple Cow and licks his lips. And I say, "I'm not really sure you've "gotten the lesson"...and I can't say "You're welcome" right now but I do love you, and no, you can't have a snow cone."

And I want another one SO bad that I can't stand it....Kid that is...well, OK, a snow cone too.

Gotta Have It

I saw this on another adoption site. It originates from www.redenvelope.com and I gotta have it! I just wish I knew what size to buy and, more than that, I just wish I knew my daughter would definately be born in the year of the pig. "The List" just isn't moving....hope they still have it when I need it!

Mother's Day

We spent the day at the zoo. It was fun..from the sunscreen to the snow cone brain freeze. I can honestly say, the zoo is becoming a challenge for me. My husband is way too smart and makes more animal sounds that should be humanly allowed and my son corrects me everytime I mispronounce or incorrectly identify an animal. I'm just really not that "into" animals, but it seemed like the thing to do today. Besides, free admission for Mom.

I kept looking at all the families with little babies...wagons...strollers....and I thought, next year that will be us. (Man, and I am really use to not having to "pack" stuff! It was so nice to just have a camera and sunscreen!)

I am thankful my son is still little enough to not notice adults. I saw WAY too many body parts that needed to be covered and far too much exposed sagging flesh. (Hey, I've got it too, I just don't force the world to look at it!) Don't even let me get started on having to translate T-shirt sayings and tattoos!

We saw a man (55ish) pushing his mother (75ish) around in her wheelchair. They were there alone, he was pointing out all of the animals, and in spite of the heat, they really seemed to be enjoying the day. WB did notice them. It prompted him to say, "Mom, when I get big, I'll bring you to the zoo if you want me to."

This Mama's heart is full. She is blessed and yet, she looks forward to the promise of the future.

It's the damn dog's fault..

Before I became a parent, I had a dog. Not just "a dog", I had the best dog in the world. You know, the kind of dog that really understands what you are saying. The kind of dog that feels your pain, senses your joy, and loves you with everything they have. His name was Chiyo. (Named after the grand champion Sumo from our life in Japan.)

I had never really wanted a dog, but JB did and since he wanted kids too and I was still in my "I'm never having children stage", I caved for a dog. (Knowing it had to be the lesser of two evils.) Four years into our marriage, we got a dog and everything changed. Chiyo became one of the greatest blessings of our lives. He taught me that I could love a dog, that there was a "mother" in me somewhere. He lead us to become parents.

Thirteen years into our marriage, after poking/prodding/waiting/crying, we were blessed with WB. Chiyo hung around to get us all started as a family and passed away before WB's third birthday. I miss him still....

And then..there was a little boy that wanted a dog. He wanted a dog more than a sister, but he compromised on the sister so that he could get a dog. Silly mommy, in a moment of weakness, I gave into a dog.

And now...there is a dog. A dog that I can't stand. A dog with no social grace, no manners, who only cares for my husband, and that pees on my living room floor if JB is away too long. I can't stand this dog. (I know, I've already said that...I want to make sure you get it...)

And now, I have doubts. I loved Chiyo and I can't (for the life of me) get attached to dog #2 in the same way. (Oh, and his name is Smore..because he looks like one.) I love WB, have from the instant I knew he was there, but what if I don't "feel" that same connection to my daughter? I didn't have these doubts before dog #2.

Families with referrals seem so attached to those photos....(I think that is INCREDIBLE and it is overwhelming for me to understand)...and I'm afraid I won't have that attachment and that scares me and it's the damn dog's fault.

School's Out For Summer...

I am so excited that classes are over and that I was able to pull out two "A". I am so EXCITED about taking the summer off and concentrating on the family and the house.

I really feel compelled to create an interesting blog, so I imagine I'll be experimenting with backgrounds, graphics and layouts in the coming weeks. (But, I LOVE dragonfly boy....he's staying...in some form.) I hope to get an updated blog roll added to my side bar in the next week or so. I am having some adoption related concerns that I'd like to post, but I don't want to get "too heavy."

I love the green grass, and I LOVE the WATER, but if my tomato plants drown, I'm gonna be one unhappy camper!

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I understand we are technically #9 on "the list"...but I sent an email this week restating our interest in twins or young siblings. It would take an unusual situation, but we have a fingers crossed!