Pool Season is Open!

It is a BANNER day in the Williams’ household.  Today, my friends, is opening day of the…wait for it…Williams Family Pool!!

The water is in, the furniture is set up and the pump is working.  It’s been skimmed clean of debris and the water is looking crystal clear.

Ah, Summer!  We finally get to bask in the sun and cool our hot, tingly skin in the cool, refreshing water.  Cold, iced tea waits nearby.  Dragonflies flitter around our heads.  The cool inside waits for when we tire of swimming.  Yes, it’s good to be a Williams these days.

I’ve attached a picture of our pool so you can share in the joy.  Please don’t be jealous.

 

 

 

Menopause Mambo

Getting old, I’ve been told,

Is only for the very bold.

But now I knows, I’m one of those

And this is how the story goes.

 

Thinning hair, it’s not fair.

Why do I have hair right there?!

Mustache grows ‘neath my nose.

Doing the Menopause Mambo.

 

Spreading hips, thinning lips.

Butt so big my pants do rip.

Boobies sag, eyes have bags.

Doing the Menopause Mambo.

 

Sweats at night; that’s not right!

What happened to my good eyesight?

Sagging jowls; hoofs like cows.

Doing the Menopause Mambo.

 

Double chins; I’m not thin;                                       

Can’t remember where I’ve been.

Losing keys; creaky knees.

Doing the Menopause Mambo.

 

Mother Nature – time to go;

I’m ‘bout finished with the flow.

It’s been fun but my song is done.

Doing the Menopause Mambo.

 

 

A Blog about Nothing

This is what I accomplished today:

 

 

 

What? You don’t see anything?  Don’t adjust your set; it really is empty.  Because that’s exactly what I did today – NOTHING.

I had good intentions.  Today was supposed to be pool day.  Then Tessa ended up in my bed last night and we slept till 8:30 this morning.  I also awoke with a sore, swollen foot from a week-old spider bite. That’s when I changed the plans to a quick trip to Walgreen’s Minute Clinic and playing outside the rest of the day. 

We decided to leave at 11:30.  Then 12:00.  Then 1:00.  Finally, sleepy, hot and extremely lazy, I decided my foot could wait another day and we wouldn’t go anywhere.

So here we sit in our old ramble-around-the-house clothes, watching TV and eating junk food.  We’ve wondered outside a few times so Tessa could ride her bike (a newly-learned talent) and to check the mail.  I’ve put a few dishes in the dishwasher and made up my bed.  But mostly, I’ve relaxed and enjoyed just being still for a while.

Summer at its finest.

Tessa riding a bike for the first time!

Phineas and Ferb - I need you!!

Question: What are the two words that a mother dreads most?                

Answer: Summer Vacation!!

Ahhh…Summer.  Those joyous days of sleeping late, playing all day and eating ice cream.  For the KIDS.  For us moms, well…our days are filled with extra laundry, extra dirty homes, larger food bills and an increased supply of migraine-strength Excedrin.

It’s not that we don’t love our kids; of course we do! It’s just that, like a rich dessert, it becomes too much of a good thing.  You can’t eat cheesecake all day, now can you? (OK, technically you can, but you will REALLY regret it that night while you’re sitting in the bathroom hoping the rest of the family can’t hear what’s going on in there.)  Kids are the same.  You start out loving that first, delicious bite, but by week three or four, you’re stuffed to the gills and looking for the Tums.

I’m determined to stick to my plans this summer: reading, catching up on math skills, trying new adventures.  I expect that determination to last for about two weeks, at which time I’ll give in, find my lawn chair and work on my tan.  Then mid-August will be here and I’ll wonder once again what happened to that endless summer stretched in front of me.

Motherhood

My second posting tonight.  This usually won’t happen.  Heck, this will NEVER happen.  But I just received wonderful news and now I’m feeling sad.  Yes, you read that right.

My husband has a young cousin named Casie - the daughter of the man he’s named after.  She’s funny and witty and sarcastic; I call her my “should-have-been” daughter.  Her personality is more like my husband and me than the rest of their family (mother and sister excluded).

Her father passed away seven years ago.  When Casie got married last year, my husband proudly and humbly walked her down the aisle.  When she found out she had gotten pregnant on her Disney honeymoon – totally unplanned, by the way – she sent me a text to let us know because, ironically, we were at Disney at the time.  A warning of sorts.

Tonight, Casie is having her baby boy.  And I am having a bad case of the melancholies.  I’m as proud as a grandmother, as excited as a friend, and as jealous as woman well past her child-bearing years. 

Don’t get me wrong – I am THRILLED that Casie is becoming a mother.  Every woman should be able to experience the joy of motherhood.  And have to suffer through the trials of it, as well.  It’s not as if I want another child.  Good Lord, no.  At one time, I may have considered it.  Sometimes I wish our daughter had a sibling to play with and grow old with.  And I adore babies.  But I know we made the right decision to stop at one.  And our one is worth a million.  But still…

Why are women built this way?  It hardly seems fair.  We’re the caring, selfless, compassionate sex, after all.  Shouldn’t we be ecstatic for other mothers?  Shouldn’t we feel joy at our own ventures in motherhood?  Why the jealousy?  The regret?  The sadness?

I know this, too, shall pass.  We’ll go see Casie in a couple of weeks and coo over her precious baby boy.  We’ll take too many gifts and I’ll give him too many kisses.  I’ll get the warm fuzzies and be too clingy to my own little family for a few days.  And then life will get back to normal.  I’ll have other things to worry about and to be happy about and Casie will have the unenviable job of caring for a newborn with little sleep and more questions than answers.  Life will continue.

Tonight, I will turn on an old movie, curl up under the covers, and drift off into a slightly sad, very excited, and supremely proud sleep.  And tomorrow, I will see the first pictures of my “should-have-been” daughter and my “should-have-been” grandson.  I can’t wait.

New on Fox ..."Philadelphia, 37846"

We have a lot of chickens on our farm.  A lot.  Like, around 30.  Now, this number includes 17 chicks, and we also lose a few chicks during their short childhood.  Things happen: hawks; raccoons; jealous, murderous hens…

Yes, it’s true.  Having chickens is a soap opera.  Who knew they were so dramatic??  And human?? 

We’re a progressive, open-minded farm.  We have a single father who raised his dead lover’s child to adulthood.  Said child turned out to be another rooster and abused his adopted father until he was injured in a little accident we don’t talk about.  (Trust me.)  Now he just hops around on one leg…

We also have a couple of hens who are co-parenting three chicks.  Apparently, they didn’t know whose eggs were in the nest, so they took turns sitting on the eggs, sometimes even sitting together.  Now they are one big happy family, except for the occasional arguments over how to raise their children.  You know how women are – they always think they are better mothers than anyone else.

There’s also Blondie, our favorite.  She’s our single mother who can’t afford birth control – 18 chicks hatched in one day!  She’s down to 14 now, but they are big and healthy and about to leave the nest.  She could teach some humans about raising children.

The chickens are fascinating.  Roosters in regular cock fights, hens chasing each other away from the best worms, harassed mothers trying to get some alone time away from her ever-chirping chicks.  Sounds like a Lifetime movie.   Yes, I think they just might be human after all. 

The Beginning...

Hello friends.  I’ve been thinking about doing a blog for a long time.  People tell me I’m funny.  I’m sure some think I’m just a plain idiot.  But I like to be funny and to make people laugh.  And I like to laugh myself.  I’m not too serious of a person.  I enjoy simple things. 

That’s not to say that I’m dumb.  I’m actually a fairly intelligent person.  And I can have deep, meaningful conversations.  When I’m sad or depressed, I’m REALLY sad or depressed.  And I have real issues and problems, just like the next person.  But, for this blog, I intend to keep it on the light side.  I want you to enjoy reading what I write.  I want you to be happy when you read this.  I want you to smile.  So let’s get started!

For those of you who don’t know me (or think you do, but you really have NO idea), here’s the short version of my story.

I’m a 48-year-old mom and wife.  I have a nine-year-old daughter who is both the biggest joy in my life and the biggest source of my stress; in other words, a normal child.  My husband is my Prince Charming.  I don’t know of another man who could ever be more perfect for me.    We live a heavenly life on a small farm, complete with animals and a garden.  I’ll get into more detail about all of those things sooner or later.

So that’s it for now.  Not too exciting, huh?  Come back anyway.  I promise it will pick up.  After all, I can’t go too long without making a fool of myself.

Ciao!