Monday, September 19, 2011


My children are an endless source of entertainment.

Hero Husband ended up working a double shift this weekend leaving Super Son no options but to come along to the dreaded girly birthday party that Miss Thing had been invited to.

The principle that

"You are 9 and they are 6 and therefore you may not beat the
pinata into submission until they all get at least two turns"

is lost on him.

He is also not enthused about face paint (unless of the war paint manly cammo variety), glittery butterfly crafts and things that don't involve beyblades.

I paused to take a picture of my sweet girl

(don't you just love her new sassy haircut)

and when I turned around Super Son had gone AWOL.

Miss Thing was happily gluing her glittery do-dad to the sparkly do-hickey and
so my parental reconnaissance mission was underway.

He was not at the bowl of queso,

he was not snacking on the spoils of the pinata beating,

he wasn't watching the football game

Where I found him was outside just around the corner

going all martial with his arts, 

battling unseen adversaries,

and apparently not wanting to be watched

or photographed.

The End

Sunday, September 11, 2011

Ten Years

Ten years.

There is nothing that I can say this year that I haven't said before.

Ten years

and it still hurts.

This is the first anniversary that Hero Husband and I have not marked together.

Fitting that he is out with his team again.  Searching and Rescuing.

And so I held my children close

we laughed

we loved

and we remembered.

And we can't wait to see Hero Husband when he gets home.

Friday, September 09, 2011

Humiliation: Full Moon

Last week I caught a stomach bug.

It was 12 hours of utter misery followed by 3 days of general malaise and blah peppered with small bursts of feeling halfway normal except for the unattractive shade of green that would grace my skin every time I thought about food.

This happened to coincide with the burning of greater Austin which isn't really relevant except Hero Husband was off living up to his moniker and I was left to whine and moan with no one to pity me and Wee Ones that still needed to get to school.

I also had a work meeting with some official-types about a re-zoning hearing that was happening and couldn't be delayed.  My meeting thankfully ended up being timed perfectly with one of my bursts of semi-normal energy.

The meeting went well and I was pleased to pat myself on the back for getting the issue cleared up.

Look at me.  Hear me roar.  Mama survives stomach plague, bounces back enough to send the kids off to school and meet with zoning folks and solves the problem.  All in a days work.

That is until I entered the lobby and proceeded to tumble down a short flight of stairs.

Wearing a dress.

That managed to end up somewhere north of my ears.

With a security guard, a janitor and 2 parolees as witness.

Oh and don't let me leave out the security cameras that were on hand to save the whole thing for posterity

or to monitor the parolees.

Po-tay-toe  ~  Po-tah-toe

The stairs were covered in sandpaper tread that claimed their victory over me with the skin from both of my legs as trophy to a job well done.

Upon reflection it seems that I must have been a bit faint, which I guess happens when you can't stomach food of any sort for several days in a row.  My wound pattern (hello CSI) indicates that I did not try to catch myself and considering that I don't actually remember falling it seems like a safe bet.

My loving friends and family did their best not to laugh


and I'm sure were only concerned for my health when they asked if I had asked for copies of the security tapes.

A full moon in the sky is a beautiful thing to behold.  Mine upside down on the floor of a municipal building lobby is just fodder for the humiliation chronicles.

You may all laugh now.

The End