The Seven Days of Vacation

I am counting the days to fun in the sun and I thought I would share a little song:

On the first day of vacation my true love sent to me one margarita in a big shiny glass!  

On the second day of vacation my true love sent to me two enchiladas and a margarita in a big shiny glass!

On the third day of vacation my true love sent to me three cabana men, two enchiladas, and a margarita in a big shiny glass!

On the fourth day of vacation my true love sent to me four Spanx  bikinis, three cabana men, two enchiladas, and a margarita in a big shiny glass!

On the fifth day of vacation my true love sent to me five golden bottles of tequila, four Spanx bikinis, three cabana men, two enchiladas, and a stiff margarita in a big shiny glass!

On the sixth day of vacation my true love sent to me six chatting parrots, five golden bottles of tequila, four Spanx bikinis, three cabana men, two enchiladas, and a stiff margarita in a big shiny glass!

On the seventh day of vacation my true love sent to me seven extra strength Tylenol, six chatting parrots, five golden bottles of tequila, four Spanx bikinis, three cabana men, two enchiladas, and a stiff margarita in a big shiny glass!

God I wish there was twelve days of vacation what was I thinking!

What do you love about vacation?

Pale as a Ghost

It was a couple of hours after I wrote Homework and the Elusive Flu Bug that the scene from the exorcist was replayed across my bathroom floor with my youngest son.  It was at that moment I felt I had enough of puke  for a century as I scrubbed the night away.  

It was after I was done cleaning and fully recovered from the poisonous fumes that  I went to check in on my little man, “Honey, you look as pale as a ghost!”

He looked at me “I do!”

“Yes! You do!”

It is with that he lifted both of hands to examine them carefully for several minutes. He then looked up at me and sighed, “Mom! I think you are crazy! I can still see my hands and I definitely do not look like a ghost!”

Have you ever taken someone’s  words literally? Did it end with humorous results?

Homework and the Elusive Flu Bug

My son sat at the kitchen table as he worked through his mountain of homework. He looked up at me and said, “Mom I don’t feel so well!”

I walked over and felt his forehead, “You don’t feel warm just finish up the last three questions and we will do the rest of the morning.”

He sighed, “Fine! But my stomach really hurts.”  

It was with a sigh, I gave him a stern look, and made him complete the project. He gave me his puppy eyes and I thought to myself “I am not caving in this time.”

It was an hour later when I heard it, the noise every parent hates to hear, the gag, the cough, the sound of projectile vomit hitting the walls, and carpeted floor!

I took a deep breath, entering the room of vomit, he looked up at me “See I told you I was sick!”

It was as I waded up to me knees in vomit and fighting the urge to lose my own cookies that I vowed to never be skeptical of the words “Mom! I feel sick!”

If I had only paid attention to those simple words – it would have saved me from a three-hour scrub-out from hell!

Have you ever experienced the scrub-out from hell? Did you keep your cookies?


Snow Forts and Blogging

Since the first seasonal snowfall my children have developed a one track mind  to build the perfect snow fort.  They come home from school with anticipation of building a snow fort that has seats, a bowling alley, and somewhere to fit a big screen TV. 

It is when they are in the planning stages it makes me think how this snow fort is similar to the many stages of  blogging. They both take time, thought, and creativity. It is the creation of a vision that sometimes crumbles and other times takes on a life form of its own.

It’s in the early hours of the day we wait for inspiration to hit in order to write the perfect post. It comes to us whether we are in the midst of doing the dishes, going for a run, or  strikes the moment the perfect song come on the radio.

As I watch my sons become inspired with ideas  drawing their blueprints for their fort.  It reminds me of the times I create my own  outline for each post attempting to plan what I want to write and follow thru on the intent  of the post.

It is with the completion of the blueprints they spend the next fifteen minutes fidgeting, getting ready, and finally fumbling into their snow suits. The next fifteen minutes before I begin to work on my post is the final stages of procrastination – answering emails, getting up for more coffee, and operating the laundry machine before sitting down to write.

The boys finally run outside with their shovels in their hands and they begin to build their snow fort. They is dig within the snow and attempt to build their sturdy get away. I dig within my brain lifting layers of ideas until the words flow out getting lost in my own blogging space.

It is once the words flow-out I am left with a haphazard piece which begins to crumble before my eyes. It’s too wordy? This doesn’t work here? It is at this stage I begin to tear it apart and start over once again.

I look out the window and I see my sons debating the shape of their fort intent on making it only bigger! They pile the snow on top of the its  roof attempting to create more space and more room to play.

It is once I feel comfortable with my own  space, I feel it is fine,  I  then press the publish button. It is after I press the button I wait with anticipation for a friend to drop by to share their own thoughts with an imaginary warm cup of coffee.   I look  out the window to see a smile on my sons knowing faces that  their fort is sturdy enough to sustain a snowball fight  – they knock on their friends doors for them to come out and play!

It is the completion of both a fort and a post that make both a worthy task to complete on a snowy day. The ability to share something of your own with fellow bloggers, the and enjoyment of the comments. It is the same enjoyment my sons feel at  the perfect moment to throw a snow ball in the air and chase his friends around the park.

It is these special moments which make me enjoy the process of blogging, the thoughts, the creation, and getting to know other fellow bloggers. So I ask is anyone up for a good snowball fight?

What does blogging feel like to you?

A Movie Confession

It may come a surprise to you that one of my favorite movies of all time is Bram Stroker’s Dracula. If a vampire was going to devour me whole then  I would give my neck to Gary Oldman for better or worst. He masters the character of Dracula with torturous grace in an indulgent cinematic masterpiece.

As times change so does the image of the vampire.The ideal candidate is no longer the long tresses Transylvanian vamp.  Sadly, a clean-cut clan of vampires  from the  Twilight saga has taken his throne for handsomest of them all.

I confess I read all of the books like a giddy teenager ignoring the fact that Edward could be considered a dangerous stalker with obsessive compulsive issues.

I will also confess to you that I played hookie this afternoon with a friend and we went to Breaking Dawn.  We sat in the theater giggling and laughing at the most inappropriate of times. It was when I left the theater – I felt a little guilt for enjoying the movie a little too much.

My heart only has room for so many vampires and Gary Oldman will always be my one  true love of darkness. I have a wandering eye, may have cheated a time or two, but he knows I always comeback to his blood-thirsty ways. Afterall, he is Dracula! I just hope he forgives me…

Do you have a movie confession you would like to get off your chest?

The Everyman

I believe there is a man haunting me in my sleep and I been having the same dream for five  consecutive nights in a row.  He is faceless, he reads my blog, and he leaves comments. The comments which leave me scratching my head in wonder…   

It is as I am about to ask him a question he always leaves with a blink  of the screen!  I awake with only the memory of running from my computer in a sweat with a snake jumping at me!

It’s at that moment when I am wide awake staring at the ceiling trying to remember his wise words of warning.

I wonder what does all of this mean – do I spend too much time on my blog? Is it weird that I am having dreams about comments? What is my subconscious telling me?

 I have been channeling my inner dialogue but Freud is still upset about my last  post and won’t respond to any of my questions.  Even though I know he is dying too! He thinks he has all the answers…

Do you ever have odd dreams? What do they tell you?

My Inner Dialogue

As I lay on my leather coach gazing out the picture window – my mind begins to swirl in an array of thoughts. It is at that moment of silence in which imaginary Freud pops in for a visit!

Me: I wonder why she doesn’t like me?

Imaginary Freud: Does it matter?

Me: Not really!

Imaginary Freud: Good can we can get this nap started?

Me: Do you think I smile too much? Or maybe is it my laugh?

Imaginary Freud: What is wrong with smiling and laughing?

Me: Absolutely nothing! But do you think because I try to stay positive I annoy people?

Imaginary Freud: Possibly. But does it matter?

Me: Not really! I try to be sincere and compassionate.

Imaginary Freud: Are we talking about your mother?

Me: God! No! Why do you always have to go back to my mother?

Imaginary Freud: I was just wondering…So yes, yes, you try to be all of the above.

Me: What did I do wrong?

Imaginary Freud: They simply just do not like you.

Me: Fair enough.

Imaginary Freud: Can we get on with this nap?

Me: Yes! Best to get on that! But one more thing – do you think I should change who I am?

Imaginary Freud: Dear why change? You are who you are!

Me: Thank you! I guess it’s their loss.

Imaginary Freud: Yup!

Me: So in the wise words of one of my favorite people “If you don’t like what you see F@ &! Ya!”

Imaginary Freud: If we are not going to talk about your mother – could we please have a nap now!

Me: Yes! But because I’m talking to you in my head does that make me crazy?

Imaginary Freud: Please just go to sleep!

It is with that I took the hint, curled up with my blanket, and had a glorious nap!

Do you have an inner dialogue? What does it sound  like?

A Morning of Memories

Our Morning View from the Campsite

It was a beautiful morning! We emerged from our tent, ate a hearty breakfast, and looked forward to a half day of white water rafting.

Since our children were not old enough to take on the daring rapids we settled for the half day scenic adventure and it did not disappoint us.

We put on our wet suits, helmet, and life jacket ready to go down the kicking horse.

Our guide took us down the white water the children laughed over the bumps and helped row with all of their heart’s content.

We stopped to scale a fresh water stream coming down the cliffs and discovered our kids were mountain goats three steps ahead of the crowd. It was at moments I gasped in fear that they might slip and fall! But they ceased to amaze me with their agility and strength.

The end of our journey the children looked on at the Kicking Horse wishing they were still on that raft.  They wanted to explore the rest of the river and thought of the excitement of being thrown from the raft into the raging white water. It is at that moment you could see their imaginations take flight wanting something more – wanting to be fearless without the consequences.

It was on this small journey down the raft in which fond memories  were made and I hope that one day we will do it again. I look forward to the day our young boys are men and we can take the white rapids head on with a little more excitement!

What is one of your favorite family memories?

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