Afternoon Levitation?

Warning: the following may come across as conservative and close-minded. You be the judge.

Many years ago I heard from a "reliable source" that we need to keep an eye on Disney movies, that they may become inappropriate.

I consider myself an open-minded-mom, maybe even on the verge of liberal in some areas. For example: I sort of enjoyed it when Chuckee (Rugrats All Grown Up) photocopied his butt at school to prove that he wasn't a goodie-goodie. My kids watch Nick, the Disney Channel, some Cartoon Network, but I like to steer them towards PBS.

We love Disney, and have watched and enjoyed most of their movies. It was no different with 'Lilo & Stitch' when it was released a couple of years ago. It was a cute movie, not the same old princess story. The Disney channel now airs 'Lilo & Stitch' the afternoon cartoon with the same characters and similar story line as the movie. Flags went up immediately when one of the characters turned out to be a cross-dresser (the whole enchilada: male with wig, lipstick, & mascara). I never pointed it out to my kids, but suggested that they change the channel. But we have watched an occasional episode of 'Lilo & Stitch'. Yesterday's episode pushed me a little far when the slumber party included and centered around levitation. Don't get me wrong, I played plenty of 'Light as a Feather, Stiff as a Board' at various slumber parties. But do we need to have it in our afternoon cartoons?

Pack 'em Up & Move 'em Out

The time has come for me to say goodbye to Small-town, Nevada. We've enjoyed our time here. This is a great place to raise a family. But we are off to our next adventure in Montana. I am completely freaking out. It will happen quickly, with my husband set to leave in just 3 weeks. There's so much to do. So much uncertainty. We broke the news to our kids and family today and we were met with mixed reaction, even some name calling. My brother called me a sh#$head. It's okay, I felt the love. I'm excited about what's in store for us, but I'm sad to be without our family, even sad to leave our new life here in Nevada. We've made friends, and I truly love my co-workers and job. I've grown fond of our Elementary school and day care and all of the teachers Maddie & Isaac have had. I know there's new friends to make, new church people to meet, and special experiences waiting for us in our new town.

Calling All Cats

This story is being retold especially for Kaycee, who loves mouse stories. One morning last spring I was awakened by our cat. It was around 4:30am, I had less than an hour before starting the marathon called “my day”. The cat was scratching something, I had a hard time identifying what it was in my stupor. When I realized he was scratching at my nice scrapbook albums, I shot out of bed, wide awake. I ran to the rescue, and to my horror, a mouse was seeking protection in the binding of my scrapbooks. I don’t think I screamed, but I’m sure some sound escaped from my mouth. Maddie and Isaac were in bed with me, as David was working one of his overnighters. Maddie was awake and by my side almost instantly, and the two of us stood on my bed watching a real-life game of cat and mouse go from room to room in the wee hours of the morning. I called David, and begged him to come home to save me from this horrifying experience. Not only did he blow me off, he made me feel stupid. The cat was having a glorious time, tossing the mouse in the air, chasing it all over the house. Eventually the pair stayed in Isaac’s bedroom long enough for me to gather my bearings and run from the safety of my bed, to slam his door shut, containing the cat and his dead toy. I left the two of them for David to deal with. Traps were purchased, and I was on guard, though I was certain we were done with the mouse drama. After all, we weren’t living in an old farm house, our home was less than four years old and in a brand-new subdivision. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Just a few days later, on a Sunday morning, I had the kids in bed with me again, David working another overnighter. Maddie got up to go to the bathroom but came running back because she thought she saw a mouse. I’m sure that whatever sound came from my mouth that time was not G-rated. I did my best to calm her and myself and we stayed in bed until David got home. As the morning progressed, a chase was on once again, but this time it included Maddie and David along with the cat. There was indeed, another mouse. They chased it into Maddie’s room, though a day-long search turned up nothing. Let me pause, and tell you that Maddie is the bravest little girl I’ve ever known. I’ve seen her take inoculations in the arm without a tear, without even flinching. She has courage that I never did at her age, and I still don’t have even now. Her courage was put to the test the next day. As we began our week, the mouse was forgotten. We went about our routine, daycare, school, work. But when Maddie got to school that Monday, her day was greatly disrupted, far from the routine she deserved. While at ‘Kids Club’ (morning daycare held in the cafeteria), Maddie pawed through her book-bag and felt something moving around. Yes, folks, it was the mouse. Not just any old mouse, a mouse whose face was half-chewed courtesy of our cat. Panic tore through that cafeteria, with adults among the loudest of the screamers. One little girl tried to claim the mouse as her own. The mouse was soon caught and disposed of, leaving Maddie with a book-bag and jacket covered in mouse cooties. I didn’t learn of Maddie’s horrifying morning until that afternoon, and it wasn’t until then that I learned she went without a jacket all day. She never complained, never fussed, but she didn’t have to. I felt awful, guilty, disgusted, humiliated, and sad that my sweet girl had endured such a tortuous morning. I brought home a gift for her the next day, a new book-bag, of course.

A Bad Guy in the House

This story is true, though some people react as if they think I’ve made it up. So I haven’t told this story often. It is pretty unbelievable. It was a fall night in 1999. I was spending a quiet evening at my mom’s house with her and my two little ones, Maddie was just 2, and Isaac was 5 months old. My husband was fishing with his brothers, and my dad was watching a fight at his buddies’ house, something very out-of-the-ordinary for him to do. It came time for me to pick up my 13-year-old brother, Jordan, from a Halloween party at a friend’s house, just a few blocks away. Upon our return, a woman pulled up in front to my parents’ house and jumped out of her blue Toyota pickup before it had even come to a stop. A man was with her, and she was screaming at me to get my dad. It was dark enough that I didn’t recognize her, and I was confident she had the wrong house. I hurried Jordan into the house and closed the front door. I gave my mom a brief recap of the recent occurrence, still sure that these weirdos had the wrong house. My mom went to the door and discovered her friend Chris, mother of 10, hysterical. When Chris found that my dad wasn’t home, she dropped to her knees right there on my parents’ front porch, sobbing in disbelief. From there her horrific story unfolded. Chris lived with her family “in the country”, several minutes from town. A little corner market was the only business for many miles. Chris was on her way to pick up her son, Jonathon, from the same party Jordan had been to. At a stop sign, one of the few on this country lane, a Hispanic man jumped in to the passenger seat of Chris’ truck and yelled “Drive lady, drive!” Another man opened the door on Chris side, saying “we don’t want you, lady. Just him.” He began shooting several rounds at Chris’ new and unwanted passenger. Chris hit the gas, trying to flee this unimaginable scene, but she stalled the pickup. Finally, she had success at getting away from the shooter, driving as fast as she could, still with the stranger (who appeared to be unharmed) sitting next to her. Chris sped away, knowing the “bad guys” were right behind her. As she got closer to town, she concentrated on a safe place she could go to. Her choices were few, there were no businesses still for many miles, and there were no houses she could go to that offered protection, as many were divorced friends or their husbands were out of town. Her frantic getaway soon brought her to my parents’ house, knowing that my dad was logical and would calmly handle this out-of-control situation. Her terror increased at the discovery that he wasn’t there. As she stood at my mom’s front door, with the stranger in her shadow, I listened and soon realized we needed police. But in my effort to not over-react, I sought approval from my mom, that yes, I needed to call 9-1-1. I called, and strangely, was too calm. The dispatcher was unable to grasp the urgency of our situation, even though I told her “we have a bad guy in the house.” I sent Jordan into the bedroom with my babies. I instructed him to lock the door and to not come out. I knew that he would protect them at all costs. Maddie, sensing the danger, crawled under my parents’ bed and we eventually found her there later on, asleep. While we waited for the police to come, our ‘stranger’ was restless. He wanted to make a phone call, he wanted to leave, he did go into the bathroom to (we speculate) flush ‘evidence’. Chris took control, and told this man to sit down and wait. The tone of her voice let him know she meant it, and he obeyed. After sitting for awhile, we discovered that the stranger had been shot several times in the rear-end. This reality reminded us that we were still without police protection, and it had been 15-20 minutes since my phone call to 9-1-1. My second phone call to them was not as calm as the 1st, and this dispatcher seemed to understand that our situation could soon turn frantic again. Just a few minutes after I hung up, a Sheriff called back to find out what was going on, and finally, he realized the severity of our situation and assured us that help was on the way. The sheriff called in for backup, and soon my mom’s street was full with Sheriff cars, Highway Patrol cars, the entire fire department, and two ambulances. A huge sense of relief came with their presence, but also silly thoughts of “what are the neighbors going to think?” As the night progressed, my husband came back from his fishing trip, Chris’ husband came to her side, and eventually my dad came home. My dad was furious with himself, not just because he wasn’t there during our drama, but mostly because there were no bullets in the house. It never occurred to any of us females to seek out a gun, possibly saving us from more terror and hysteria. Two police cars remained in front of my mom’s house throughout the night and into the morning. We learned that the “stranger” had to live in hotels for the next several months to hide from the “bad guys”. We figured that it was a drug deal gone bad, and that Chris was put in his path to save his life.

The Plastic Man

Some celebrities catch our attention for just a brief moment. So cliche with their '15 minutes of fame'.

Some people, talent or no talent, hang around in the spotlight a little longer.

Then there are a few who earn, or rather command our attention for years upon years because they are so unbelievably brilliant, with ability pouring out to audiences who drink it up as fast as it is dispensed.

The obsession with Michael started when he was quite young, so natural on stage, crooning with his older brothers.

Then in his 20s, Michael turned the music world upside down with his music, his dance, and his imagination. My room was wall to wall full of his posters (unlike the girls down the street who opted for Prince to be plastered on the walls). I nearly wore out my Thriller tape. I watched the Thriller video and making of over and over again. I was green with envy when those same neighbor girls got the red Beat It jacket. Michael was worthy of our attention and affection.

Though his talent and imagination continued to amaze and entertain, we all witnessed a transformation through the years. Eventually ending up with this freak show that we have today, whose scandals clog up the nightly news. I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, maybe even longer than most people did. But I'm done. I've been done for a long, long time.

How much longer are we going to be tortured and annoyed with the cat and mouse chase between him and the L.A. prosecutors? How many more babies are these stuped women going to give him? Why, oh why did any parent ever let their child spend a night with him?

A Hidden Pick-Me-Up

I'm not sure that I've ever been this sick before. I'm not seeking sympathy, just a fore-warning on this potentially senseless blog. I've been off the couch just a few times since Monday night. Fever, chills, coughing, and phlegm. What more can a girl ask for.

A lot of TV has been consumed this week. I don't think it's been shut off, even during the night. I've gotten to see some good stuff: Regis & Kelly, Ellen, F*R*I*E*N*D*S reruns, and an honorable mention to the presidential inauguration. Maybe a few too many episodes of Will & Grace. I must also mention: American Idol.

But the real thrill is something I stumbled upon just this afternoon: Duran Duran! John, Simon, Nick (& others) performed two songs, one of which "Hungry Like the Wolf"! It was very much a pleasant surprise, and I must admit, it gave me a little pick me up. The only thing that would have made it more exciting was to have had the cast of F*R*I*E*N*D*S singing backup.

P.S. Who was my Duran Duran crush in the 80s? John Taylor!

Big Brother

When I was in the thick of my teenage years, I thought that my problems could be solved by one thing: a big brother. As the oldest of five kids, it wasn't in the cards. I was so envious of other girls who did have protective big brothers. Wouldn't it be fun to be a Freshman with a Junior or Senior brother to show me the ropes, give me a ride home from school, and help me to not act like such an idiot in front of other boys. As it turned out, my brothers were quite small. Jordan came along at the end of my sixth grade year, and Jamesson came along during my Freshman year. Still, I was accompanied by my brothers to more than one football or basketball game.

Now that I've reached the un-desired age of 30, I truly have my long-awaited big brothers. When I say big, I mean big. At ages 18 and 16, they are each hovering around 6'4", though with drastically different builds. Jordan: we tease that he's fat, but he's far from it. Jamesson: nicknamed by mom as "stickboy".

I thoroughly enjoy these boys. But, I very much envy these boys for the material things they have and I didn't, and for the freedoms they have that I didn't. Jordan gets little sympathy from me when he complains about life being so rough, then I remind him that I didn't have a cell phone, TV in my room, nor cable or a VCR in my room. Not to mention the XBOX and Nintendo Cube (?).

Spoiled beyond comprehension (it is partly my fault), these are the two most entertaining boys around. The latest antics revolve around their right-on impressions of the now-famous Napoleon Dynamite. Gosh! They had me giggling all Christmas day with the stupid things that social-misfit said.

They are not just my entertainers, they are my right hands, and though they tease me constantly about how OLD I am, they somehow keep me young. I treasure my phone calls with Jordan, when I can make sure he's not making out with all the girls in the stake. It's recently come to my attention that I need to be directing these questions to suck-face Jamesson, too.

Moving away from them last year was quite difficult. This weekend I broke the new to them (after the rest of the family) that I might be moving further away. I hope that they'll visit and stay until I can't stand them anymore.