Yes, I am.

I'm at Shell's place, today, as her BFF Feature. Which is a wonderful thing. Shell, from the very fun blog, Things I Can't Say, does this every Friday, feature a blogger she has come to know, and we have come to know each other very well, over the past year. Shell is honest, fun, faithful, and a GREAT resource for anything related to social media.

We share lots in common: especially a love for blogging, and a love for our readers.

I hope you pop over, and visit, and read what I said to my new neighbor, when she came knocking and asking, "what do I do? I'm getting OLD!!"

Happy Friday!

Bring It

Without sounding too allthat, I am so happy with the rep that Bring The Funny? She Can, is getting.

Seriously. There was a fantastic tweet last week that had me beaming: "Sold. I will follow all your recs from now on."

Thank you, and oh, yeah, how I appreciate that.

To do a feature on another blogger takes me a little over 2 hours of solid time. I read their posts, I skip around, I see what the comments say, I scour their tweets, I rearrange the info back over here.

It's solid time. And to know that people are really liking it, and really enjoying meeting bloggers they may not have come across, it's worth the time for me.

And blah blah blah, with all that, to say, Welcome! To Bring The Funny? She Can.  A Thursday feature where I highlight a blogger I've been following that genuinely makes me laugh out loud. Not computer acronym LOL, but real life Funnnnnneeeee.

Today, please meet Melinda, from Finding the Humor.

Here, let Melinda tell you about herself: "I talk too much. Since everyone I know is tired of listening, I have turned to the internet to find a new audience. Feel free to turn the volume down if I'm too loud.
I began following Melinda about a year ago. What makes her so fun, just like what makes things funny, is the unexpectedness there. Her blog looks so sweet, and then you read her posts and it's stuff like this:

Soul Train Dancer Wannabe

Growing up during the exciting emergence of old school hip hop, I fondly remember the very first 45 record I bought with my own money: Double Dutch Bus. Hold on, I have to sing a few lines…

…There’s a double dutch bus comin’ down the street
Movin’ pretty fast, so kinda shuffle your feet…

Good times.
I looked forward to Saturday morning’s Soul Train and danced around the living room and down a pretend line of observers cheering me on.

Yes I have done break dancing…sort of

Ok not the spin on your head kind. A close friend of mine was (and still is) a rockin’ DJ who was a dancer in the only white break dancing group I knew of in the area. We’re talking the Grandmaster Flash days! There is a lot of pressure when your dance partner is that good, so I actually learned enough of the robot, cabbage patch, and running man to spoof them along with 2 other girls for a church youth group talent show. Strangely enough that never came up as a required skill in a job interview.

My kids wonder why I score so high on those moves on the Kinect dancing game. Shh…secret.[READ MORE HERE]

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A woman as dorky as me. I love it.

Twitter? Need I even say ANYthing? Of course, look at this:

findingthehumor Melinda

Sometimes the stars line up just right and a friend sends you a Wonder Woman swimsuit. Can't wait to horrify the kids!!

30 Apr

Every post is a good one. On twitter, @findingthehumor, Melinda will crack you up. 

Add Melinda to your reader, follow her on twitter. What good is it to be alive if you're missing out on even one funny person?

Right? I thought so.

And, you're welcome.

COMMENTS CLOSED HERE, SO YOU GO VISIT MELINDA at FINDING THE HUMOR.COM

You guys are the best!  Happy Thursday! 

Never Act Irresponsibly In Front Of Family Members

It was a hot and humid 97 degree day last summer. I had an hour's worth of driving to do in 30 minutes time. I had just picked up my 15 year old sweat soaked son from his soccer practice, and we were on our way to his swim lesson, with three stops in between. He sat, shirtless, next to me, while I was my own Garmin "recalculating" my way between two small towns amid all the summertime construction and road repair.

Wisconsin has two seasons: construction, and winter.

We were in construction.

Earlier that day, with a string of errands before me, I had run out of the house barefoot, jamming two twenties into my front pocket. With just my housecleaning clothes on, I grabbed nothing on the way out except for my lemonlime Powerade. Before hitting the community pool, I had a  planned quick stop at MickeyD's for dinner to make tonight work, (I hear your gasps, and I know, and I don't care) and then a run into the grocery store--which he'll have to do for me--sans shoes and all, AND all the while knowing that I had 20 minutes to make it to pick up Baby E from his soccer practice.

I guess I must've been going too fast, because as I looked in my rear view mirror, I saw the cherries go on behind me.

Yup.

In the front seat, sitting across from my impressionable teenage soon to be driving son, I glance into the rear view mirror and say, "shysters."

Crapola.

Now what.

And, this is just what I need.

"Mom!  Is that the cops?? Are they after you?"

Holy frijole. "Yes. Yes. They are after me. And what's worse? This is never quick. Never."

"Mom? How do you know it's never quick?"

errrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr..............

"Well, I mean, you know, they have to check all your information...and...CRAP! I left the house WITHOUT my purse! Oh, they are going to nail me to the wall."

crapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrappitycrap

OK. Inner dialogue, going like this: the role parents play in the lives of their children coming into sharp focus. This is truly a defining moment.  One my son will not soon forget. Great example. High expectations. Awesome role model.

I look across the seat at my young, morally developing teen son. I take a deep breath, and say, "You know what we do now? We pull over. And then we stay in the car and wait. He'll walk to us here."

"Then what happens, mom? Do they take you to the police station right away? We're going to be so late."

"Yes, yes, we are. And I must've been doing something. And the sign somewhere must say what the speed limit is, but I didn't even see it."

The police officer walks over to my rolled down window. "How are you this evening? May I see your registration and license?"

Me, extending my palm out: "Officer? Please give me a ticket."

My request was earnest.
 
I continued, "my son is at an impressionable age, and he needs to see what happens when a person breaks the law. Please serve me with the maximum allowable for breaking the law in a residential area----NEAR A CHILDREN'S PARK YET--- in this obviously quiet, residential street."

"Is that your son here?"

"Yes, officer. This is my son. And I want him to see what happens when a person breaks the law. Please. Do everything allowable by penalty of law for speeding while driving." I feel the need to have this ticket.

He peeks into the car, and looks at my son: "Hello, how are you? Ma'am? how's your driving record?"

"Perfect, officer."

"Perfect?"

"Yes, officer. Perfect."

::son whispering:   "mom! don't lie!"  me whispering:   "I'm not lying!" ::

"Let me go check, if it's "Perfect," we'll decide from there."

The officer walks away with my registration information, we wait, a tense 10 minutes we wait. And don't think there was quiet in the car: "See, son, because of this now we're really messing the whole night up. I should've noticed the speed limit. Look, there's a kid's park, and it's a single lane, all CLUES, honey...all CLUES..."

The police officer returns, "Well, your driving record is perfect. I'm going to give you a warning. Pay attention to the speed limit. There's a kid's park here."

"Officer, I really need you to give me something. Like a ticket. My son needs to see this." There is such an affordable lesson here, I want this ticket.

Officer: "ah... I gave you a warning." 

"Officer, I think my son needs to know that I should have gotten a ticket for speeding NEAR A PARK." I will plead my case.

"Ma'am, I did do something. I gave you a warning. You have a perfect driving record for 30 years. A warning is what you got for going 6 miles over the speed limit. Don't do it again."

"Officer, can you tell my son that speeding is wrong while driving? And that he should not do as I did, and he should pay attention to the speed limits posted?"

"Ma'am? I think he's gathered enough information from our interaction here. I think he gets it."

"Well, thank you, officer. Thank you. And this was a wonderful lesson. And God bless you. And I won't speed again and I'll make sure that I talk about this with my son some more and thank you for doing your job and pulling us over. This was a time appropriate opportunity, thank you so much. I'm so happy you pulled us over. This couldn't have been more perfect --he'll be driving soon, and this was just wonderful. Thank you..."


"Well, you seem like a very nice woman. And I think your son understands what happened here."

"Officer. I know I should really leave this alone, my husband tells me this all the time. But, I just have to ask you one more time, can you give me a small ticket? Just like, a little bitty small one? You know, to show this is wrong...for my son to see..."

::son hissing: "mom!! you should just go, dad is right. just.go".::

"OK, then officer, thank you, again...this has been such a wonderful, wonderful night. Thank you!"

::son eyerolling: "mom, you are so crazy. You know that? So. Crazy."::

"Yeah, well, honey, I may be crazy, but you won't forget what it feels like to see cherries going in your rear view mirror and looking back at your own face reflected in officially issued regulation aviator mirror sunglasses anytime soon, will you?"

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*This is a true story that happened last summer. I hear my son tell it to his friends, still, as in,  "man, that was the scariest thing. I hope I NEVER get pulled over."

I will never understand why I didn't get the ticket, I wanted my son to see what happens. I think, pretty sure, it's because of my 30+year perfect driving record.

If You Stand With Your Shoulders High Up It Makes You Look More Buff

Me and my big brother

It's Monday, I love Mondays because it's Baby E Post Day. As always, he's ready to talk your ears off. Thanks for loving on this little guy, you all  are awesome.
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Hi. It's me. This picture is of me and my big brother, Alec. We have birthdays close together. But my mom still has us do our birthdays on separate times. She says her mom made her share birthday parties with her sister, and she never liked that.

My mom brought me home when I was born on my brother's birthday. We have pictures of me inside the blue bucket they'd carry me in, with a bow on top, like I'm my brother's present.

My brother teaches me tricks. He taught me that if you stand with your shoulders high up, you look more buff.

It does work.

I learn other tricks by just watching people, though.

Like, here are 3 tricks to look smarter:

Three Tricks To Look Smarter:

1.  Hold your chin with your hand. It looks like you're thinking. Try it in the mirror. It works.

2.  Squint your eyes before you answer a question. Ask someone to do it so you can watch. See?

3.  Stand with your hands behind your back, holding them.You look like a professor.

*You should do #1 and #2 together to work the best. I wish you could see me show you.
*#3 works really good if you do it while walking around. I'm doing it now.
*I learned these tricks from TV shows. If you do them, watch how they work.

Haircuts are Crazy:

We had to go get haircuts. My dad makes my mom take us. She likes us to just let our hair be long, but my dad goes crazy and then one day he bursts out and talks in all capital letters "when are you going to get their hair cut!?"

And then we go.

When I go, they always do this:

First, they make me look like an old lady with curly hair.
Or, they make me look like an old man with curly hair.

I hate new hair cuts. Sorry, I mean I don't like how I look with a new hair cut. I don't at all.

With my brother, the middle brother, they always make him either look like a girl, or they make him into an old mullet man.

We both come home so mad from our haircuts.

I like to do this stuff now: I like to do a cow face and chew like a cow, round in a circle, whenever I have salad.

It goes like this: just chew slow and real slow and go around with your mouth.

My mom laughs but my dad and brothers say, "not funny everytime, you know."


My mom says it is.


Things I Have To Do:

I have to hurry up and grow up because I need to start on my plans before I run out of time. My mom says time goes fast in life. So, I want to get started:

1. I want to go around the world in 3 stages: first, I want to walk around the world in 5 months, then I want to run around the world in 5 days, and then I want to fly around the world in 5 hours.

2. I need to do time travel to stuff I want to do. I have to do time stopping, too, so my greatest days don't end.

My greatest days are easy to know: they're the ones I say I seized the day.

For me to seize a day, in order for me to say a day has been seized, I have to do 3 things:

1. Three amazing things have to happen.

2. I have to do three amazing things.

3. It has to feel like a great day.

Sunday was a Day that I seized: I had my friend birthday party with my friends, and it was a Tae Kwon Do party, and I got the Nerf gun that I really wanted.  That day was seized.

Bye!

Next week I will tell you about the new book series I am laughing about. And soccer started.

Bye.
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Meghan, from Phase Three of Life, has an awesome Q&A for her 50th follower. Who is me, pretty great, hmmm? Hoping you'll stop over, say Hi,  and help Meghan feel welcome in the blogosphere.

Sunday Best - Love in the Chaos

If you ever need a cure for house envy, come to our house. You'll leave feeling that your house is the best organized, most tightly run ship on the planet. A visit here is good for that. With 4 males in the house, the level of noise is beyond what some would find comfortable. The same can be said for the level of activity, as in indoor soccer games, and football tossing.

There is someone always either playing the piano, shooting the Nerf gunS (yes--S-- as in PLURAL, as in MANY to choose from), or seeing how many paper airplanes can be flown off the upstairs balcony at once. [Hmmmm....maybe they'll fly better if we tape pennies to them!]

Snacking is always going on, there is PlayStation being played, more boys from the neighborhood, a Wii game started upstairs. The lemonade pitcher will be spilled, and someone will leave their unfinished popsicle to melt on the kitchen island. There are shoes to be tripped over, and Lego pieces that will spike the tender arch of your foot.

This is our home, with love in the chaos. 

I grew up in a silent home. My mother didn't like noise, and didn't encourage interaction. She preferred quiet solitude. This was a good thing, in part, it turned me into an insatiable reader. But, my memories of what it was like growing up are often accompanied by the sound of the quiet ticking of the clock in the dining room that I would hear daily.

I knew, that when I had my own family, that I wanted our home to be a boisterous home, bursting at the seams with family life, much like my  grade school friend, Stephanie, had. That's what I wanted.

Life is so good--I am now blessed with exactly that. I am the mother of three sons.

And, within the sound of yet another vase breaking, a dish being dropped, or the sound of experimental aircraft being thrown off the upstairs balcony, you will hear love among the chaos. The sounds of a full house, and my own full, satisfied heart.

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This post originally appeared at Stephanie's,  The Drama Mama, Scoop on Poop. Click over and meet her, she is a lovely woman.