I Don't Have That Kind of Time

So, I've been reading a lot of style blogs lately. I'm trying to find ways to punch up my current wardrobe or mix and match new things because we're on such a tight budget. And the thing I'm noticing on almost all of them is purses. As in more than one. As in people have more than one.

I mean I do have more than one, but I don't switch them out on a daily basis. Hell, half the time I can barely remember to grab my purse as I head out the door, much less have time to transfer all my crap into a new one.

What about you? Do you swap out your purses? I'm curious.

Oblivious

Bubba's baseball team won their first game tonight 6-5! They looked like a completely different team than the boys who took the field on Saturday. They looked like a team.

But Bubba, well, Bubba often lives in his own little world. As the team was running off the field, whooping and hollering, Bubba ran toward us exclaiming "Man, we've lost two games!"

"What?"

"We lost again," Bubba said.

"No you didn't, Bubba. You won!" we corrected.

"Oh."

"Why did you think your team was so excited?"

"Because the game was over?"

Ah, well. Despite his seeming excitement that the game was over, he is truly having a great time. And I'd rather he be his clueless little self than the little boy on his team who winds up in tears after every strikeout.

Wish in One Hand....

Every day I have to walk behind the art school to get from the parking deck to my office and vice versa. Now that the weather has warmed up you can usually find some of the art students, paint and clay bespattered, lounging around.

One day last week there was a girl out there, her blanket spread out on the little grassy hill behind the building. She was sitting there, elbows on her knees, dress pulled up to maximize the sun exposure, cigarette dangling from her fingers. And y'all, it looked like Heaven. Now, I don't smoke so it wasn't that I was jealous of. It was her freedom.

She had no where to go, no one to whom she was responsible. I mean, of course this is purely conjecture on my part. She could have five kids waiting on her at home for all I know. But she just looked so free.

And for the first time in ages I wanted to go back to college, to those heady spring days when we'd find a sunny spot on North Campus to take a nap read for classes. The feeling of the warm sun on your bones, knowing that you could stay there as long as you want, with only the passing voices of other students to disturb you.

Don't get me wrong, I love my family. But if I would love to have just one of those afternoons back.

Friday Haiku: Play Ball!

Back when I first started blogging there was a blogger (or two?) who started a meme -- the Friday Haiku. I loved it, for one because I always knew what I was going to post on Friday and two because I loved the challenge of fitting whatever I wanted to talk about into the strict Haiku format.

I don't know if the Friday Haiku is still a "thing" or not, but I'm going to start doing it because I think it's fun. I had planned to write today about Bubba's baseball practice last night and I'm still going to do it, just in haiku.

Warm metal bleachers,

making thin lines on my thighs.

Bees buzzing my ears.

Ten eight year old boys

run hither and yon to catch

balls just out of reach.

Dust clouds follow them.

Dirt and grass on skinny knees.

Sweat trickles on brows.

Eager to learn rules,

soaking them up like a sponge.

Perfecting their skills.

Mom, dad, sis, watching,

cheering while offering tips.

"Get your elbow up!"

All American.

Baseball, Mom and apple pie.

So proud of my boy.

My Secret Shame

So, I feel like it's been kind of All Doom and Gloom All the Time around here lately, so I decided to shake things up a bit. I've decided to post some things that I'm slightly ashamed of.

One thing you need to know about me is that I'm kind of a music snob. I will secretly judge you if you like certain singers and bands. I live in a town that is full of awesome music. REM and the B52s got their start here. This is where great bands are born. But.

Miley Cyrus' "Hoedown Throwdown" makes me want to crank up my radio and dance in my car.

There. I said it.

Also? I don't hate Justin Bieber's "Baby."

Whew! That's a relief to get that off my chest! Woo, this feels pretty good...I think I'll keep going.

I like cheap beer. I don't mean like PBR or anything, though I have been known to drink it. But I do like Michelob and Coors. (AndreAnna, please don't scoff. I get enough ridicule from my husband, the beer snob!).

I like mariachi music. It's weird I know. I can't help it. I also like cowboy yodeling.

I like Grease 2 better than Grease 1.

Sometimes I listen to XM's Kids Place Live even when the kids aren't in the car.

I think Adrian Brody is kind of hot. Actually, I think he's really hot.

In a related note, I have a thing for guys with big noses. You know what they say...big noses, big....tissues! LOL!

They say confession is good for the soul. What's your dirty secret?

We've Got Spirit, Yes We Do

About a year and a half ago, I took one of my Libraries' regular donors to lunch in an effort to get to know her better and to find out why she gives. It's part of my job.

We hit it off and had a great conversation. She's much older than I, has grandkids in fact, but because we are mothers we could still find plenty of common ground. She is somewhat estranged from her daughter because of their rocky relationship during her daughter's teenage years. Her daughter was very headstrong, knew what she wanted, and didn't see why she had to bend to the will of her parents.

At the time, Punkin was only about 2 years old. And while I already called her "my spirited child," she was pretty much a normal 2 year old. There were tantrums, but they weren't anything out of the ordinary. I confessed to her that I have often hoped that my daughter will be spirited, strong-willed. In my mind I'm picturing a daughter who goes after what she wants and isn't afraid to try new things. A daughter who puts her friends before her boyfriends and herself above all else.

"Woo, be careful what you wish for," my lunch companion laughed. I laughed with her.

I'm not laughing now. Seriously, y'all. I think she might have been a genie of some sort and granted my wish. A spirited daughter? I've got it in spades!

My mother likes to say that I came into the world with my mind made up on every subject and I think this is one of my (few) attributes that Punkin received in her genetic code.

Y'all, she wears me out. She has to be in control of every situation. If you tell her to brush her teeth, she just has to do this one thing (whatever it may be) first. Or if you tell her to get dressed, it's "But I need to give you a hug first." Come here? "But I need to...whatever." It's always something and it's maddening. It's like SHE has to prove that she's the boss of her and she will do what I ask, but only on HER terms.

And frankly, I don't know what to do. Do I force her to bend to my will and do what I say when I say it? Or do I lighten up? I've tried giving her control in other areas and it doesn't seem to help.

Any suggestsion? Or does anybody know the name of a reliable gypsy who can reverse this curse?

It's All in How You Say It

Thank you all for your responses. I would like to have emailed you all back, but most of you have your Blogger accounts set up so that you can't get email responses. Get on that, people!

Anyway, I felt like I was losing my mind, so it's nice to know I'm not crazy. Or if I am, at least I'm in good company! A friend brought me a fortune cookie today that said "Tomorrow is a new day; you should begin it well and serenely." And I will. On 10 mg of Lexapro.

In my post yesterday I started to say that I felt as "mean as striking snake," which is common southern expression. It's pretty self-explanatory I think. And that started me thinking of some of my other favorite expressions. Now I know "Bless his/her heart" is a favorite example people use of the Southern two-facedness (it's a word!), but I have to admit I'm not sure I've ever actually heard anybody say that. But here are some I have heard:

He's grinnin' like a mule eatin' briers.

She's madder than a wet hen.

He's happier than a pig in shit.

If the good Lord's willing and the creek don't rise (for the uninitiated, that means that you'll do something you say you will if it's at all possible).

Save your confederate money, honey (said when I wanted money for something and I wasnt' going to get it).

I know there must be hundreds of others but my brain has gone on strike and so what started coming to mind are some of my family's sayings. I had an uncle whose commanding officer in the army used to respond to requests with "not only no but hell no." I heard that one quite a bit growing up and I'll be adding it to my stable of responses once the kids are a little older.

My mother was a probation officer my whole life and so if something was a mystery we always said "it's a misdemeanor to me." If something was missing it had "absconded from supervision."

Mr. Daddy has added "pig bitin' mad" and "fruit loop frenzy" to our immediate family's lexicon. Together he and I have bastardized a line from Fargo, one of our favorite movies, so that whenever a decision needs to be made and I'm leaving it up to him I say "It's your deal, Wade."

It's like a family's secret language. Do you have one?