Dear Chase

Dear Chase,

Please forgive me for the fact that this letter is two weeks late. What can I say? Life has not been on our side lately and it's been tough to fit it all in.

You had a great birthday this year, though your wish list was a bit tough for me initially. You did not ask for easy gifts like Legos or Nerf guns. Oh no, not you. What you wanted was a real lighter used by a soldier on the beach at Normandy during World War II. And armor from ancient Rome.

Not necessarily items one can pick up at the local Target, if you know what I mean.

But I did surprise you with those old magazines and an antique camera, as well as a few more modern delights. The look on your face when you opened them was priceless. Your joy was evident and I have caught you several times tinkering and exploring your new toys. I still shake my head in awe that an 11-year-old boy would ask for such antiquities, not to mention be thrilled to death to receive them. Man, I love your individuality, kid.

Speaking of your quirks, when I went back through my photo archives to find some pictures for this post, I noticed that you are wearing the same shirt in practically EVERY. SINGLE. PICTURE I have taken of you in the past year. I know I wash that shirt twice a week, but that's because you wear it twice a week. It's your favorite and the new shirts in your closet can never match up. First thing out of the laundry, that shark-caging souvenir tee from Hawaii graces your bony shoulders.

You are who you are.

And I wouldn't trade your quirks for all the riches in the world.

You make our life very interesting, Chase. You keep us on our toes with your wit and intelligence. It is never dull around here because of you. One of my favorite things to see is your one, lone dimple, lit up by a huge smile, topped off with your sparkling baby blues. Your happiness is contagious. Your laughter fills the room and spreads to everyone around you.

You inspire me to be a better mom. May I one day be worthy of the gift that is your incredible spirit.

Love,

Mama

You're all winners in my book

Wow. You internets know me better than I thought you did. I am highly impressed.

The lie amongst the truths?

I did exercise (though only once, and it was rather painful).

But since I love you all to bits and pieces, I decided to enter everybody into the contest anyway. Because you were all so nice to play along. And your guesses totally made me laugh. Courtesy of random-dot-org, the winner is:

idahocuzin said...

It's the GLASSES!!!!

September 27, 2010 10:03:00 PM CDT

Send me your address and a little ditty is headed your way.

Now, for the stories.

Dishwasher: Still broken. New one got delivered yesterday, but the geniuses at Best Buy forgot to tell me we needed a side mount kit since they can't screw it into the granite counter tops. Will be hand-washing dishes (and cursing) for another week or so. Grrr.

Chase's finger: No stitches needed; they used the glue to stick it back together. He's got a very cool scar and has hopefully learned when NOT to use a pocket knife in the kitchen.

Glasses in the toilet: True. And very gross.

McKay's bloody toe: Also very gross. Healing nicely thanks to me forcing him daily to soak it in anti-bacterial wash and then bandage it up. Just call me Nurse Ratched.

Garage door: Fixed and working like a charm (about the only thing around here that is though).

Sword Cake & Turkey dinner: Chase's birthday feast pick. It totally rocked. I was exhausted but felt like super mom. And, yes, I washed all those dishes by hand, too.

Getting kicked out of a fall festival by a cop: Tragically and horrifyingly true. I had a senior portrait session at one of my favorite parks here last Saturday. Unfortunately, it was the one weekend a year where they have this festival, and a policeman very rudely asked us to leave. I'm still unclear why. We weren't in the way or trying to pose our pictures on the middle of the craft tables or anything. But whatevs. We had mostly finished up, but it was pretty embarrassing in front of my client. Never had that happen before. Hope to never repeat it.

Thanks for playing. You peeps are the best internet friends a girl could ask for...

Trying desperately to find the humor in it all

The last few weeks sort of kicked my trash. I've spent more time in tears in the last two weeks than I have in the last two years.

But I'm over it and moving on. Today is a new day (and all that crap). So we're going to play a little Monday morning game that is a favorite of seventh grade parties everywhere:

Truths and a lie.

Below, you will find a list of things that actually happened to me this week, and one thing that didn't. Pick out the lie, tell me which one it is, and every correct answer will be thrown into the mix for a prize of some sort.

Last week:

My dishwasher breathed its last (resulting in me hand-washing the dishes EVERY. DAMN*. DAY. while waiting for the new one to arrive).

I took Chase to urgent care for a cut on his finger that he received while slicing banana bread with a pocket knife (because using a normal knife like a human is clearly beneath him).

I dropped my glasses in the toilet (after, not before).

I had to bandage McKay's bloody toe after he stubbed it and ripped the nail clean off.

I did not exercise at all.

I went to drive a carpool to the church and found that the garage door had broken a spring and would not open, resulting in the kids and I being stranded.

I single-handedly killed 96 fruit flies (honestly, where are they coming from?).

I made a huge, traditional turkey dinner and a sword-shaped cake, all on the same day.

I spent $150 on co-pays at the doctor's office in one week.

And I got kicked out of a fall festival by a policeman.

So take your guesses. Which is the one lie in all these terrible, awful, no-good truths? Contest ends Tuesday at noon.

*Don't worry. I've already given the jar a quarter. It was totally worth it.

The post that was (and then wasn't)

So there was a little post up yesterday, and after receiving more hate mail in five minutes than I have in my entire life, I decided to take it down.

Not because I let other people dictate what I say on this blog.

But because I had a horrible day yesterday, and after sobbing on the phone to the Husband about it, the last thing I needed was to sit down in front of my computer and be berated by strangers.

By people who clearly do not know me at all. By people whose intent is to hurt and to hate.

Neither of those things are my intent.

Nor will they ever be.

My sense of humor simply may not be your thing.

If that is the case, my advice to you is this: STOP READING.

To the rest of you fine people: Thanks for all the sweet words you leave here. They mean more than you will ever know.

Further proof of our Napoleon obsession

Last night, I had a friend coming over to get some updated corporate head shots. With the backdrop and lights set up, I snagged the first kid I could find to pose for a few shots while I tested the lighting.

With no staging or awareness of my Kip post yesterday, this is what he gave me:

Remind you of anyone?

And, yes, I do believe he was imagining himself weightless in the ocean, surrounded by tiny little seahorses.

That was it. That was the one. I think that's going to come out real nice.

Stay home and eat all the flippin' chips, Kip!

Last week, McKay got his braces on.

In case you lost count, that makes TWO children in orthodontia. (Ah, money. How I miss you. We used to have such good times at the mall.)

But I find that braces totally suit my boys' smiles. Gives their crazy teeth a purpose. Makes their smiles seem much more full of promise, instead of just snaggily and crooked in those mouths of theirs.

Lately, though, every time I turn around, I get what we have dubbed, The Kip Face.

For those of you not versed in Napoleon Dynamite speak, I am referring to the scene where Kip and Lafawnduh share a milkshake across the table and he looks up at her through his eye brows while raising them up and down, and smiling like a hyena.

It's oh so suggestive and alluring.

[Turn your sound off though for this clip. The music makes you want to kill yourself. And you really only need watch the first two seconds to get the gist of what I'm talking about)

Meet Kip. And Kip.

Brothers bonded forever by their love of stupid movies, braces, and their need to make their mother crazy.

Seriously, though. How cute is this boy? It's a good thing I like him so much.