The Six, No, Seven, Men I'm Glad I Had In My Life

You know how you're driving along, and a blast from the past comes on the radio and takes you back to a good moment in your life? I get that a lot. Hearing music from certain parts of my life brings out all the ghosts of people I once knew so well, I can't believe I know nothing about them anymore.

I've had some good people come passing through my life. Though their names aren't important, the part they played to a shy, insecure girl is one I'm forever grateful for.

In no order of one being any better than the other, here is a list of The Six Seven Kinds of Men I wish every woman had the good fortune to have had run through her life, just once:

• The Dancer. This week end favorite is as close to having a handsome BFF as you will ever get. This guy doesn't care who's watching, what his friends will say, he just wants to pull you out on the dance floor and see you smile. Bobby Z's face is the one I always see when Walking on Sunshine comes on.
• The Holiday/Special Day Rememberer. Oh, man, this one. Not a birthday, 6 week anniversary, Sweetest Day, or Earth Day passes without a lovingly signed card slipped into your college backpack. A genuine sweetheart with a heart of gold. It's Mark R I see when the stores start announcing Time To Buy A Card!
• The Sharp Dressed Man. Enjoy it for as long as you can stand sharing the mirror with someone almost as pretty as you are. How fun is it to know a guy that likes to shop as much as you do? And one who really cares about his answer when you ask, the blue or the grey shoes with this one? Fun times. Gary B, you still that sharp dressed man?
• The Talker. Michael A, how you would listen and have opinions and get as upset as I was when I told you what my crap roommate was pulling. I loved it. Walking and talking and holding hands for hour long walks, when you made me feel as if you didn't want to hear any one else's stories but mine at that moment. I heard you were married, I hope you're still listening like this, to your wife. If you are, you've kept her a happy woman.
• Oh, the allure of the World's Most Handsome Man. Whew. How great is that while it lasts? To walk into a place and have jaws drop at who has their arm draped around you. Bill K, I always made it seem like you were the one lucky to be seen with me, actually, that summer we were together I felt like Angelina herself, and I couldn't have walked prouder. Remember the carload of girls at the gas station that just about ran over the gas pump when they saw you get out to fill up?
• The Sweetheart. Wouldn't the world be so wonderful now and then if these sweethearts were able to dole themselves out to everyone, just a few months here and there, so we'd all get some of this love and devotion? The sweetheart who calls you like he promises, rides his bike over in the rain, learns how to make homemade pizza just because you mentioned how much you think you'd like to try it.  Chris H, when I ran into you and your three little kids at the toy store 15 years ago, I could tell right away, you hadn't changed a sweet hair on your head. What a lucky wife you have.
• The Comedian. Once again, you are here, Gary B. No one has made me laugh harder at absolutely nothing than you. It's this gift of humor that you had that meant I could never stay mad at your shenanigans. And you know just what I mean; being an hour late and showing up as if you hadn't realized it was an hour late. You knew, and you packed some jokes you could pull out in your defense as soon as you rang the doorbell. It was my admiration and love for how you made me laugh that kept us friends from the time we were 16 until we were over 30 years old. That's a long time to be friends. And then you had to move in with that jealous girl, Tammy 15 years ago. I hope you are doing well, because I think -- of everyone here --  I am most grateful for you.

There it is, the list of Must Have Men In Every Woman's Life. The memories are almost sweeter than the real thing.
 

Is this No. 1, No. 3, or No. 4? Or all of the above?

xo

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Dead Sea Whaaaa?

Last Spring Break, instead of going away on vacation, we decided to stay home and hit up all the museums and other things we never seem to have time for during the year. My husband and I didn't tell our three boys the next day's agenda, and the kids would find out the day's plans on that morning. Made for some frustration, but also provided that awesome element of surprise. Surprise makes any occasion special. Every morning they'd wake up and ask with true enthusiasm, Where are we going today? Baby E would be the most excited, things are still new to him. With every disclosed plan over breakfast, he'd pump his fist in the air and shout, Yes! We'd clean up the table, pack snacks, and go.

One day during the week our plans were to see The Dead Sea Scrolls. This trip required planning, advance ticket purchase, arriving at a specified time: a real coordinated effort and I was so excited to tell them. We are going to see The Dead Sea Scrolls! I announced while waving our tickets over their corn flakes.

I had to order the tickets for the exhibit two weeks ago and the exhibit is on loan from FOUR separate museums, along with private collectors. This exhibit has taken years of international negotiations, and cost a great deal of money in terms of insurance and being on loan. Cool, huh? I caught my breath but my eyes were still on fire. My mood was contagious, and they were fascinated. Baby E seemed to ponder the information, but with a quizzical look in his eye.

This exhibit contains articles that are over 2,000 years old! I had all their eyes and ears. These articles were stored in tall clay jars. A shepherd found them when he was throwing rocks down a cave. He said that every time he threw a rock into a cave's opening, he'd hear the shattering of a clay pot.  They stared at me, waiting for my next word. All in all, they found eleven caves full of these tall clay receptacles. When they opened the jars, do you know what they found? They found some contained the Dead. Sea. Scrolls! Still no peep from Baby E, I did find it unusual that the fist pump was absent to the day's featured event. Had he become jaded by all the fantastic fun awesome mama had planned?

While in the car on our way, the chatter continued.

Mom, how did they hold the scrolls together?

Mom, how do they know they found all the scrolls?

We can ask those questions when we get there, I told the older two boys.

I glanced in the rear view mirror, trying to catch Baby E's face. He was just taking in the conversation, but looked ill at ease.

You feeling okay, Baby E?

Yes, mom. But how do you know we'll like this?

Because it's over 2,000 years old! Cool, huh?

I guess so.

We finally arrived at the museum and rushed in to pick up our special Dead Sea Scrolls exhibit tickets at the will call Box.

Ah! The tickets! Let's go!

Everyone ran ahead, but you know who dragged behind.

What is wrong, honey? I studied Baby E's eyes for a hint.

Nothing. But, are you sure every one wants to see this?

Oh, yeah, this is huge, I explained, Big stuff. Like the kind of thing you'll tell your kids about.

He walked on, not saying much, holding my hand tightly. We waited in our assigned queue for the 10:30 exhibit showing.

There's a lot of people here, aren't there? I said, in attempts to get a conversation going with him.

Yeah. I just can't believe everyone wants to see this. He sounded so skeptical.

Of course! I said, who wouldn't be interested? Just think, 2000 years old!

He quietly chewed his upper lip as we waited. Mom, is that all we're going to see? he wanted to know.

Is that all? I echoed incredulously. We'll be here an hour, reading about the discovery, and how they pieced everything together. You'll love it -- I'll tell you about everything we'll look at. We'll even get the audiophone guided tour, alright? He still didn't seem reassured.

The velvet ropes were unclasped, and it was finally our turn to enter the exhibit. The mystic music was playing in the background, there were painted sand dunes on the walls, there were the placards, the grainy photos of the initial discovery, the stories, and finally, at the end, the clay jars! With the Dead Sea Scrolls!

Baby E stood in the middle of the exhibit, hands up in the air. Well, where are they?! His exasperated voice broke the silence in the exhibit.

They're all right here, I shushed him, see them?

No. Where are they? The dead sea squirrels you said we were going to see today. The ones they found 2,000 years ago? 


I give you Exhibit A-----The DEAD Sea Squirrel as in, the amphibious creature that lives both on land AND sea, and that has been DEAD for 2,000 years.

I won't even tell you how much he didn't enjoy the laughter he brought to that entire hall that morning.

 image: 

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Unattended Google Searches

The unattended google search. You read about it, you discount it, you say Naaaaaaaaah...that's something that happens to other people, it'll never happen to me and my kids.

It always happens to other families, doesn't it?

Except when it happens to yours.


My post at Aiming Low today, on what we saw when we saw the Unattended Google Search.

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Aiming Low: Where mediocre parenting is the gold standard.

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**In some exciting family news, our oldest son, Alexander, 16, has been chosen to attend an intensive civil education program known as the Civil Leadership Academy, in Washington, D.C. for one week. He was the only cadet chosen in the state of Wisconsin, and one of only 24 chosen nationwide. He leaves today for one week. When he completes the program, he and the other cadets will present before Capitol Hill legislators.


We are very proud. 

Thank you for allowing me to brag a little. He's a great kid.

xo

Studio 30 Plus

There are some new badges up on my side bar.

This one:

and this one:

I bring this up not to be boastful, but to say THANK YOU to Studio 30 Plus for this amazing honor. And also to say Thank You to everyone who voted for me in the Studio 30 Plus Boomerang Awards.

Thank you so very much, to those of you who nominated and voted for me. I never want you to think I am not touched, deeply moved, or not appreciative of this acknowledgement.

Now, go on, get, visit Studio 30 Plus if you haven't yet, it's a soooper cool community blog where you can be featured as their daily blogger, take part in some unique prompts, and submit your posts for their weekend shout outs. You'll get to know some bloggers that you wouldn't meet otherwise, and have new people read your featured posts when they're up.

It's an exciting place, and all you have to be is over 30.  I can do that.

Thank you so much, from the bottom of my heart, to Studio 30 Plus, and to all of you. This is quite an honor.

xo

Deemed Unsafe

When we were homeschooling a few years ago, my short husband, a/k/a youngest son, and I were on a group field trip to a huge pizza-making factory. I, and the other parents on the trip, were assigned our own child plus five to watch. I've always been lucky enough that my boy is crazy about me and sticks to me like glue, so I had no worries about whether or not he wanted to be with me. I also had absolute confidence in my abilities and zero concerns about losing any child in my care -- I've always been very responsible. However, based on who knows what criteria, there was something about me that pushed a fellow chaperoning parent to the point of her having to ask me every 20 minutes during the two and a half hour tour, So, all your kids with you?

Yesss. All six.

20 minutes later, same question, So, how many kids with you now? 

Still. Six.

I think I know what it was that weighed on her and made her twitchy: my group was having fun, lots of it; the usual faces back and forth and imitations of tossing pizza dough up in the air and missing it. I behaved on this trip and promised myself that I wouldn't get defensive with this woman, no snarky words would slip out.

You know Gloria on Modern Family? Not a Colombian exaggeration. Push us enough and you'll hear about it. But I bit my lip and kept it all inside because my son had asked me to, as all three of  my three children usually do when they set out the Rules We Must Follow On Field Trips This Means You, Mom speech given to me pre-public appearances.

This mom had her own child with her in her group, so the issue couldn't be fear of losing him via me. My son also noticed her apparition-like appearances, the Ghost of Nosiness Present. His heavy sighs were timed at the exact moments as mine in response to her questions. I saw him roll his eyes as we'd sense her approach. I saw him with the identical fake tight lipped smile skill I have come to perfect. As soon as the six in my group and I would begin with the enjoyment of an afternoon together, she'd be over in two seconds like she had heelies on.

By the end of the trip, she had me chomping my gum like a 1930's mobster to keep my mouth quiet. More than anything, I wanted to say What the heck already, lady … enough with the Amber Alert with my group. Does it bother you that much that we enjoy a few snorts and chortles here? When it came time to board the bus back home, she floated to the front of the line where we were like Casper the meddling ghost.

All your kids here before we head home? She queried.

Yup. All six. Still.

When my son and I found our seats in the middle of the bus and sat down, I looked at him and made cross eyes, slumped my shoulders, shook my head, and maturely stuck my tongue out. He covered his mouth and giggled. I know, he then whispered seriously, shaking his head and crossing his own eyes in a perfect unintentional imitation of me. I. Know, he continued, What the heck, right? Instead of keeping on asking you if you lost any kids, why didn't that lady just say I'm worried about you losing kids because you don't behave like a normal mom.

I sputtered out laughing. If the adorableness next to me at that moment was the end product of being raised by a socially suspect woman, then I don't think I have ever felt prouder of being deemed unsafe in my life. 

Hmmmm... now who'd Baby E learn that face from?

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**Twilight without Edward Cullen? Please let it not be true....details on my post today at Sprocket Ink.